


The Rules of the Game

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: (a very badly kept secret but a secret nonetheless), 2016 Summer Olympics, Alternate Universe - Field Hockey, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Olympics, Anal Fingering, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bechdel Test Pass, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Boromir is Gay, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Dís is Famous, F/M, FACT, Friends to Lovers, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, Fíli Is a Sweetheart, Galadriel is a Little Shit, Gandalf Is a Little Shit, Hand Jobs, Hand jobs in front of Mirrors, Inspired by Real Events, Late night sex on international standard hockey pitches is my new kink, Learn all about hockey with the power of smutty fanfic!, Light BDSM, Lothíriel isn't actually a dick, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Past Lothíriel/Sigrid, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Bets, Sigrid is a bit of a dick, Strip Tease, Trans Woman!Háma, Unprotected Oral Sex (sorry), Vaginal Fingering, Woman on Top, almost getting caught, hand holding, people need to talk about their feelings more, sex in inappropriate places
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 75,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: Sigrid's still recovering after her break up with Lothíriel, and it's starting to effect her game. With Rio only a few weeks away, can she find a way to get it all back and keep her spot on the GB Field Hockey Squad? In walk Fíli McBuri, GB Men's Hockey Player and son of the famous Dís Durinson. Turns out he's been in a bit of a bother too, and well wouldn't it be great if we had lots of casual, friendly no-strings sex to keep our heads in the game and make sure we can help our teams to victory?But with emotions and hormones running high, is there really any likelihood that this won't end in heartbreak? After all, this is the Olympics; where it's win or lose, and there's no Gold Medal for falling in love.





	1. Goals Can Only be Scored from Within the D

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been playing hockey since I was 10 years Old and I am now 22. Thus naturally I was glued to the TV during the Olympics! In between games I started to write out this fanfic because, well, I just really wanted to read a Field Hockey AU and alas there weren't any about! Especially not for Fígrid. 
> 
> So this is the result, 12 years of hockey and I'm using all those skills to write you guys multi chapter Smut.
> 
> I've based the Games/Events on things that actually happened during the games-- so the end results for teams are the actual results of those teams. So, if you don't want spoilers than don't go looking up the GB Hockey Team ;)
> 
> A few things are INSPIRED by the players E.G. Kíli plays for Ireland whilst Fíli plays for GB because this is what happened with the Gleghorne brothers. HOWEVER they are IN NO WAY these players. Any characteristics are completely coincidental. This is not RPF. 
> 
> Love and Thanks go to MagicMarker for Betaring and Cheerleading <3
> 
> Oh yeah, and as the Hockey Season has just started, I will be keeping you guys up to date on my own games in the end notes ;)

Sigrid was in a rut and everyone at the club knew it. Well, that was the problem with a painfully public break ups between players. She’d been with Lothíriel for three years. Three fucking years and what had happened? The girl had only gone and shacked up with another team mate! Okay so, not on her own team but rather the men’s team. And less shacked up and more been caught kissing in an empty changing room.  

But Éomer was meant to be friend, damn it! He was the big brother of her best mate and she’d always thought he saw her the same way. Éowyn had been so furious with him that she’d practically disowned him. In the end, he and Lothí had packed up and left Rohan Hockey and gone to play for Gondor, and Sigrid had never been happier to be in the Premier League, because it meant she’d never have to see Lothí again if she could avoid it. Still the problem remained that she just couldn’t seem to bring back her A-Game and Rio was fast approaching…

Their team were ready to win, this year was going to be their year and they were training harder than ever. Yet something was off; her accuracy had dropped, she was questioning her choices too much and if she deflected another ball into their own net she was pretty sure Dagní, their Goalkeeper, would strangle her in her sleep. It was after a particularly awful training session that her team finally decided to confront her.  

“We’re staging an intervention,” said Éowyn, blocking her path to the changing room showers. Sigrid gave a sigh and flung her head forward, clutching tighter to her towel as she prepared for the onslaught.  

“Look guys, I’ve told you I’m sorry I don’t know what--“

“You’re still not over  _ Her, _ that’s what the problem is.” Éowyn explained, taking on a fighting stance as she almost dared Sigrid to disagree.  

“We were together for three years,” mumbled Sigrid. “Of course I’m not over her.”  

“Well get over it!” barked Dagní, taking a step forward, somehow even more terrifying without her clothes on. “Otherwise I’m banning you from anywhere near my D.”

Hild and Morwen gave a little snicker at that, which was cut short by a glare from their Captain. Tauriel gave a sigh of her own and rubbed at her temples.

“I know this last month hasn’t been easy for you. We’re all angry at them, we’re all on your side, even Éowyn.”

“Especially Éowyn,” her friend growled, clenching her fists at the mere memory of what her Bastard Big Brother had done.  

“And we’re here for you whenever you need us, that’s what being a team is all about," continued Tauriel, "however that means you’ve got to be there for us too. We can’t sort this out for you Sig and if it continues then I’m sorry but I’m going to have to talk to Háma about whether you’re really ready for Rio.”

“What!” cried Sigrid, her towel nearly dropping to the floor. “You’re kicking me off the team! Just because I broke up with my girlfriend!”

“No, because you’re letting it get to you,” said Tauriel calmly. “I don’t want to do this Sig, but I’ve got to think of what’s best for the team and at this point in time I cannot see how you can play a part in that.”  

Sigrid looked around at her teammates trying to seek some support but everyone seemed to be in agreement: if she didn’t get her arse in gear she was going to be dropped. She swore under her breath and ran a hand down her face, not caring that she was basically flashing everyone in the room.

“Fine,” she said at last. “I’ll try and sort it out.”

“Don’t try, do,” pressed Tauriel, as still and as cool as ever. Sigrid held her gaze and gave a little nod which was met with a small smile and a clap round the shoulder.  

“Hit the showers then, and come join us for drinks at the bar. I think we could all do with some sugar in our system.”  

“Total respect to your Teetotal life choices Cap, but fuck the sugar-- I just want the booze,” grinned Pearl which was met with cheers from all round. Sigrid tried to join in but her heart wasn’t in it. She needed something to sort herself out but what that was she had no idea, and somehow felt as though the answer was not in the bottom of a glass.

~*~ 

“I should do  _ what _ ?!” spluttered Fíli, spilling his pint all over himself and regretting ever even asking for any advice on the matter.

“Find yourself a Fuck Buddy,” repeated Kíli, grinning as he took a far more elegant sip of his own drink.  

“How on earth is finding a 'Fuck Buddy,'” Fíli put air quotes around the word in mingled horror and amusement, “going to help me focus on my game?”

“Because ask yourself, when was the last time you had sex?” said Kíli, putting his glass down and leaning on the bar with a serious expression. “And not with your hand I might add.”  

Fíli just gaped at his little brother’s nerve. “What has that got to do with anything at all ever?!”  

“Everything. It has everything to do with it because unless I am wrong the last time you got your end away was when we won the league and you and Dylan got handsy in the pub toilet.”  

“Well.”  Fíli coughed awkwardly. “I guess that, erm, may have been the last time yeah, but that wasn't  _ that  _ long ago.”  

“We won the league five months ago Fí. Five months and it’s been four months since you’ve been able to get a clear shot on goal. It’s not work because everyone loves you and it’s the summer holidays so schools over anyway. It’s not family because I am amazing, and it’s not you just being a shit player because you’re not, Fí. You’re really really not. Which is, of course, why I find your treachery so painful,” he added, giving his brother a stern look filled with mock outrage. 

“Playing for GB instead of Ireland does not make me a traitor,” chuckled Fíli. “You’ve been hanging around Bofur too much.”  

“Well, maybe if you’d followed my suit and embraced your Irish Passport you’d not be in this mess and actually be able to score.” Kíli winked at his double-entendre and Fíli shook his head in exasperation. 

But maybe Kíli did have a point on both parts. They came from a family of hockey players going back generations. The Durinsons were well known amongst the community, the most notable of them being his mother and uncles. At one point in time all three siblings had been part of team GB, attracting quite a bit of media attention. Thus when Fíli had been selected, all the headlines had stated that the family ‘legacy was assured’. It was why he played under their father’s surname instead, in an attempt to distance himself from them. After all, his father’s greatest sporting victory was coming second in an inter school Rugby Tournament. However his name change didn’t seem to stop the Durinson family history being brought up in every single interview he ever did. Thorin and Frerin won their Olympic Gold medals the same year Dís had made the semifinals, and the cycle after that she'd gone on to win bronze, so there was an extra level of Durinson history to that too.

By playing for Ireland Kíli had somehow managed to avoid the pressure for medals and any press about him was over his ‘controversial’ decision to play under a different flag. All he had to do was score a few goals and flash a winning smile to the cameras afterwards. Even just helping Ireland to olympic qualification was enough for people to talk about how their family legacy was ‘still intact’. Yet Fíli still felt the responsibility to get a medal and prove that theory correct. He had a bronze Commonwealth one sitting on their mum’s mantelpiece, but it wasn’t a gold, and paled in comparison to an Olympic medal at that.

As to the sex, well, loath as Fíli was to admit it, Kíli was right. Fíli had always found that sex was the best way of clearing his head and letting himself relax. He lived for his sport, loved his coaching job but in all of that there was no time for any other hobby. And it really had been a very, very long five months.  

The problem was that he just didn’t have the same charm as his brother. Kíli could just jump in with a cheesy chat-up-line and get people laughing and flirting back before they even realised they were doing it. He was just that kind of person and Fíli was, well, a bit more sedate. He didn’t really do casual one-night-stands the way some of his teammates did. He liked to know someone before he took them to bed, so to speak. A 'Fuck Buddy', someone who he knew well enough to commit to without the pressure of romance and dating, could be exactly what he needed. How on earth he was supposed to find someone like that though he had no idea. If only Dylan hadn't moved back to New Zealand... it seemed he'd have to look a little closer to home.  

Meanwhile in the corner of the pub, sipping cider in the shadows, Gandalf Greyhame sent off a text to his fellow Veteran Coach and BFF: Galadriel Lorien. He might just have found a way to make sure all of their GB protégés were Rio Ready. 


	2. A self pass must travel 5 meters before ejection.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She laughed and muttered something about 'Typical Male Players' before going back to grab another ball."

Every summer, the hockey clubs around the UK worked together to put on week-long camps for youth players. It was a chance to promote the sport and make sure kids from all over could meet up and bond over their mutual love of hockey. The Northern County Association also gave out 'scholarships' that allowed kids from comprehensives and lower economic backgrounds a chance to attend. There was a real class divide in hockey, which in many ways didn't make sense considering all you needed was a stick and ball, yet a divide there remained.

Sigrid was certainly not part of 'the 1%', and had benefited from the scholarship when she was still a Colt Player—so naturally every year she made sure to contribute her time free of charge. Both parents and kids loved the idea of being coached by an actual GB Player.  Their enthusiasm always helped renew her own and was a reminder of how far she'd come. Sigrid thought the camp would be exactly what she needed to inspire her out of her rut. If she remembered how much she loved the game , then she'd forget all about her heartbreak.  

This was partly also Fíli's logic. His so called 'Dry Spell' had not gone away, but he was still resolutely not allowing himself to believe that was responsible for his continuous mistakes in training matches. He thought he just needed a solid piece of motivation to push him through and let himself relax into his game more. He loved teaching at the summer camps and watching the kids laughing and joking as they made visible improvements throughout the day. He always found it so inspiring and if he could just channel that inspiration into his own game, make every win about his pupils, then nothing could stop him.  

Well, that was the initial plan at least. To say it went pear-shaped would be an understatement.   

The organisers of the event, Galadriel Lorien (County Talent Spotter and Ex-Australian National Player/British National Traitor) and Gandalf Greyhame  (Co-County Talent Spotter and 1952 Olympic Bronze hockey Medallist) had paired Sigrid and Fíli together as head coaches for the camp. The logic they'd given as an excuse was that they already knew one another from GB Training Camps; they were by far the most qualified and experienced coaches there. Plus their techniques and styles would complement one another perfectly, who knew what they could bring out in the other if given the opportunity?  

The camp had been going well, with kids and coach alike having fun and learning new skills. On the last day they ran a competition between the camp goers, splitting them into two teams: one lead by Sigrid and the other by Fíli. There were medals in it for the kids and forfeits for the coaches so everyone was at their most competitive. Events included who could hit the ball fastest as judged by a professional standard Speed Gun they'd 'acquired' from GB HQ; a dribbling-only race around an obstacle course; a knock-out round to see who could bounce their ball on their stick the longest; and lastly a penalty shoot out – points given to keepers for saving the ball and points to field players for scoring.  

In the end it was Sigrid's team had won overall, so it had been Fíli who'd face punishment.

“You know the Ice Bucket challenge was back in 2014? I did it already, it’s on Youtube!” he protested, as he watched Sigrid hand out buckets to her eager underlings. There were few sights in this world more terrifying than a group of manic 8-12 year olds armed with buckets of icy water. 

“Not good enough McBuri,” scolded Sigrid as she readied her own bucket. “You lost fair and square, don’t wimp out now.”

“Can’t I just donate twenty pounds instead?” he asked hopefully as the crowd began to count down, but his answer came only in the form of thirty liters of water being chucked at him, no less gleefully by his fellow supposed adult. He gave out a rather undignified scream as it all hit him, ice travelling down his back in the process but he tried to cover it up when asked if he was alright.   
“No, honestly. In this temperature it’s all rather pleasant.” He grinned at Sigrid. “You should give it a go as well, no better way to cool down.”

“Yeah, you’re alright on that one,” she laughed, patting him on the cheek. Sigrid stopped short for a moment though as she saw him reach behind his back and grab something one of the junior coaches was handing to him. She caught a glimpse of a long thick, bright yellow barrel and began to step away from him. 

“No, no we agreed to not do this!” she warned, searching around for something to defend herself with. 

“No, you said you didn’t want us to have a water fight at the end.” He grinned, pulling the water pistol from behind his back now for everyone else to see. “I agreed to nothing.” 

All sense of responsibility abandoned, Sigrid began to sprint up the end of the pitch and try to make her escape back to the clubhouse and onto neutral territory. It seemed she was not in luck though as Fíli’s own loyal team members tried to cut her off by creating a human obstacle course for her. Fíli was not on the GB Squad for nothing though. He easily chased her down, almost tackling her to the ground as he picked her up by the waist and swung her away from the exit. 

She gave out a shriek of laughter as he pulled up her top and shot a spray of freezing cold water up her back to wild applause from the assembled crowd. She managed to wiggle free and tried to grab the pistol off of him for further retaliation, causing an undignified squabble to break out between them. Fíli tried to hold the pistol up above his head so it was too high for her to reach, somehow forgetting that she was taller than him thus more than able to make a grab for it.  

The parents who'd come to pick their children up early were surprised to see these supposed Internationally Renowned Players behaving like children, and a few had complained to Gandalf and Galadriel as such. However the majority of the kids had too many amazing tales of their time there for any parent to really mind that a pair of twenty-somethings were having too much fun teaching the next generation of super stars.  

"We should probably head home ourselves," said Fíli as they waved goodbye to the last kid, having called a truce on the water fight when the pistol had run out of ammo. They'd already packed up most of the kit save for their own stuff and done a complete ball collect from the pitches, finally accepting that the missing seventeen balls were either enjoying new homes, or had been sacrificed to the Hockey Gods and taken into their other worldly dimension where all balls went someday. 

Sigrid gave a noise of agreement and stretched her back. Her wet t-shirt still clung to her but even so when she raised her arms up Fíli’s eyes couldn't help but dart down at the glimpse of newly exposed skin; just as she'd not been able to avert her eyes from the way his own shirt had clung to a series of defined muscles not often seen on a hockey player. Usually midfielders like Fíli were lean and built for speed over strength, but Fíli was broader than that with a strong pectorals as well as lean thighs and what seemed to be quite the well defined abdomen. A thin train of thought ran through Sigrid's brain about what it would be like to straddle that stomach but she'd repressed it as soon as it arrived.  

"What time did Gala say she'd be back?" Sigrid asked, checking her watch. They were currently using Lothlorien Hockey Club's training grounds, and Galadriel was the only person who had a copy of the keys to the gate. She'd mysteriously disappeared towards the end of the session though, giving no solid excuse as to why. 

"She never said," shrugged Fíli, who'd grown accustomed to this behaviour. "She only told me she'd be back in time to lock up and asked if we could wait until she did. Would have thought she'd be here by now though." He frowned, looking down at his own watch and back up at the sky. It was still only six o'clock and nowhere near dark, so he wasn't worrying just yet.  

"Well we might as well keep ourselves busy until she gets here," smiled Sigrid, picking up her stick and dragging a ball out from the crate. She easily flipped it up into the air and began to bounce it on the flat of her stick, the ball getting comically higher and higher each time. Fíli picked up his own stick and batted the ball away from her mid bounce. He let the ball fall to the floor and then scooped it up again to continue on where Sigrid had left off. She laughed and muttered something about 'Typical Male Players' before going back to grab another ball. 

"How's things at the Men's GB camp then?' she asked, continuing to bounce the ball as she did so.

"Okay I guess," replied Fíli, his eyes still trained on his ball and refusing to let it drop. "Although I think things could be going a lot better shall we say, what about the women's?" 

"Well I think the team's ready," Sigrid said with slightly pursed lips, thinking about the intervention from last week. She continued to put all her energy onto the ball though, not letting it falter for a second. 

"But you don't feel like you're personally ready?" Fíli asked, sparing her a glance. Sigrid was one of the best players on the squad, he'd seen her play countless times both for country and for club. He knew she didn't have anything to worry about, but sometimes worries had a habit of burrowing into your subconscious anyway. God knew Fíli understood that all too well. For a few seconds the only noise to be heard was the  _ tap-tap _ of plastic against carbon fibre before Sigrid spoke again. 

"You hear about what happened with my girlfriend?" She didn't spare him a look as she said it, though the grip on her stick tightened and the ball began to bounce around more erratically. Of course Fíli had heard what had happened between Sigrid and Lothíriel, the whole League had. They'd gone from the next greatest Hockey Power Couple after Hild and Morwen Dun-Harrow, to the biggest break up story of the year. That had been three months ago though, and he'd assumed that she'd recovered from it by now but clearly not. He couldn't think of how to respond to this and so just let her continue to hit the ball at her own pace.  

"My game’s suffering because of it. Tauriel says if I can't pull my head out of it then I won't be going to Rio." The ball bounced harder and harder against her stick, until she finally let it drop to the floor. She flicked it up into the air with practiced ease, aiming for the goal but sent it sailing over the net instead. She paused for a moment and stared straight at where the ball had gone and then back to where she'd intended it to go. She gave a sigh and leant on the top of her stick. "And they're all fucking correct." 

Fíli followed her line of sight as well and then right back at her. He hesitated for a moment, uncertain what advice to give her and decided upon telling her his own truth. "Well, at least you've got an excuse. I'm just doing crap for no good reason at all. See?" He imitated her move with precision but accidently sent it flying far wide of the net. He let out a groan of frustration, dropping his stick to his side as he watched the ball roll away. 

"Well they do say performance issues affect one in four men," Sigrid said, with a slightly coy smile. Fíli couldn’t help but bristle at her words though.

"I assure you I don't have any 'performances issues'. Just because I've not had the chance to put to use any of my skills lately, does not mean I've forgotten them entirely; and I'd prove it to you any day." He huffed, and then instantly regretted his words as he realised how ridiculous that all sounded coming out of his mouth with no context. She was just making a joke! It wasn't like this was Kíli and his ridiculous theories about Orgasm to Goal ratios! He felt himself flushing bright red and stammered an apology that was quickly cut short by a burst of laughter from her. His embarrassment quickly turned to insult, but when he saw the mirth in her eyes he couldn't help but succumb himself. Their sticks dropped to the ground as they clung to one another for support, completely lost in the ridiculousness of it all.  

"Well I'm glad I'm not the only one undergoing a dry spell," Sigrid said at last, wiping a tear from her eye as she composed herself. "If we're being this blunt and honest I'll tell you that I've not had a proper orgasm since she left me." She shook her head at her own pathetic ways, but Fíli looked at her with such understanding that she felt compelled to continue and propriety be damned. With a sigh she sat down on the wet astro and leant back against the fence. Fíli joined her there, a look of concern still on his face.  

"Lothí knew everything there was to know about me in every way. She knew how to take me apart piece by piece in a glorious slow burn, but she also knew how to make me come so fast I didn't just see stars I saw nebulas. So now, whenever I try anything I can't help but think about her doing it to me. It's a terrible way to get over an ex and I would in no way recommend it."  

"You tried finding someone else to, er, do it for you?" offered Fíli after a moment of awkward silence and Sigrid gave out an amused snort.  

"I am really not seeking a full time relationship right about now. I've got to focus on Rio. I can't let that opportunity pass me by and yet, and yet..." She sighed, remembering every single failed training session from the past three months.  

"Well what about casual hook-ups? One Night Stands and all that?" Fíli suggested instead. 

"Not my thing," blanched Sigrid. "I mean, casual no-strings sex is all well and good if you're into that kind of thing, but it's just totally not who I am. I like to--" 

"--know a person before you shag them. Yeah, I know exactly where you're coming from," smiled Fíli. 

Sigrid was sat so close to him now that she could see the exact way his eyes crinkled when he smiled and even in the dimming light she was beginning to see how his eyes weren't as blue as she'd first thought but were tinged with a small amount of grey, more like a river than an ocean. She could not know that at that moment Fíli was thinking the exact same of her.  

They stared at one another for a moment, a tension rising between them as fight or flight instinct seemed to overtake them.

"So, just to check," began Fíli, "you are thinking what I'm thinking, right?" 

"Is what you're thinking involving kissing?" asked Sigrid, licking her lips and edging her head slightly closer to his. 

"Amongst other things." Fíli's hand came up to curl around her waist and twisted her further towards him. 

"Excellent," she said and then they were kissing and those months of bottled frustration and lust began to pour out of them all at once. Neither had realised how much they needed this, as though they'd been lost in a desert so long they'd forgotten the taste of water and then finally come across an oasis. They desperately pulled one another closer, biting and sucking and stroking as they let themselves devour and be devoured.  

Everything felt so gloriously solid to them. This wasn’t some imagined fantasy but something more vibrant and real, the scratch of the astro and the pain from sitting down too long letting them know that this was all really happening. Whilst Sigrid's skin was much softer than Fíli had anticipated, her lips were heavily chapped by the sun and her hand had matching calluses with his own from where they'd been attached to their sticks for most their lives. She was soft and rough at the same time and the hardness of the pitch and the water seeping into his clothes acted as a reminder that finally he was beyond the need of imagination as someone else took responsibility for his pleasure. He groaned louder than intended as Sigrid's hands shifted up underneath his shirt and rubbed across his back, before pulling it off over his head and yanking him closer towards her.   

Fíli moved away from Sigrid's mouth as he sucked bruising kisses into her neck that made her dig her nails into him as she gasped for breath. He traced each mark with his tongue, relentless in his motions and that, combined with the scratch of his beard and his musky sweat-soaked smell, had all thoughts of Lothíriel flying straight out of Sigrid's head. This was new and different and she finally felt wanted again. Not just desired but needed to the point where propriety was thrown out the window and into the rubbish heap. They knew Galadriel could come back any moment, knew that the park behind them was still open at this time, knew that anyone could walk in on them making out on Pitch 1 but none of that mattered to them. If anything the idea of someone catching them only fed their desire for more, the element of risk appealing to their competitive natures.  

Fíli lifted her onto his lap and Sigrid felt the hard heavy press of his erection against her, causing them both to groan into the other's shoulder as they continued to rock against one another. His loose shorts were tenting and Sigrid reached a hand down between them to slip under his waistband to stroke him off. His own hand came down to still hers but not before he let out a moan that rippled through his whole body.  

"Don't." He panted into the crook of her neck. "I don't want it to end so soon." 

"But I really want to see you come for me." Sigrid replied, bending her head to bite gently on his ear lobe.  

"So do I," he replied, eyes fluttering shut as she gave a small twist of her wrist, hand still wrapped around the tip of his cock. "But I wanna see you go first." It had been so long since he'd been touched that he feared one more second and he'd be coming in his shorts there and then.  

She gave a smirk as she gently let go of him and trailed her hand up his chest raking through his thick thatch of hair, giving his nipple an experimental twist as she did so. "Make it quick then," she purred, letting go of him to pull her shirt up over her head and throw it to the floor. She sat up a little straighter on his lap as she pulled his chin up for another kiss that he couldn’t help but get lost in. He let his hands roam up and down her sides as his fingers traced the edge of her bra to palm across her breast.

That's when he realised that things might not be as straightforward as he first assumed. Somehow despite him being chest height to her, he’d not factored in the fact she was wearing a sports bra. It wasn’t the sort of thing he ever put much thought into and he was slightly taken aback for a moment, but he was in too much of a rush now to bother with the physics needed to be rid of the thing so just shoved it up as high as he could, gifting him just a hint of flesh but enough to pull her closer and began to wrap his mouth around her exposed breast, sucking at her with abandon. She let out a giggle at the awkward position of her bra, her arms still trapped uncomfortably inside but it turned into another groan as he gently grazed his teeth against her hardening nipple, swiping over it with his tongue a second later. She felt a rush of warmth shift down to her crotch with each press of his mouth and his muffled moans. She was becoming acutely aware that it wasn't just the turf dampening her knickers.  

Fíli's own hand was going between them now, drifting up her thick thigh and underneath her skirt. A second later though she heard a mumbled curse. She looked down at what was going on and saw Fíli's scrunched up mouth as he took a better look at what she was wearing.  

"First a sports bra, now a skort? You're really not making this easy on me." He grunted, trying to push up past the lycra shorts and failing.  

"Well you know all those rumours about Hockey Girls being 'Easy' are a myth right?" She said with a grin, which widened at Fíli's further grunt of annoyance. She took the opportunity of his distraction to try and work an arm free from her bra and managed just about, leaving it completely lopsided but allowing her a bit more free movement. Fíli glanced back up at her with his own smile now.  

"Looks like they'll just have to get ruined then." And he moved his hand to rub firmly against the soft lycra between her thighs. It was a rough friction, and his fingers were relentless in their heavy and quick press against her. The nearest condoms were back at their cars anyway, and neither felt particularly inclined to stop and make the run. Sigrid shifted further up onto her knees, embracing the fact that she was going to be incredibly sore and bruised in the morning, and allowed him to pull her skort down far enough to grant him better access. He was only able to pull them down to her knees where it bunched up awkwardly but the release she felt at the first press of his fingers against her was all she needed to forget about it.  

He trailed a digit up and down her folds in gentle patterns that glided across her wetness and made her sigh with pleasure. His thumb came up to brush against her clit and her eyelids fluttered shut as she gripped tightly to his hair, keeping him in place. His fingers were thicker than she was used to, a different sensation entirely and a whole new unpredictability that kept her always on the edge. His index finger gently traced her opening, pushing inside of her and making her gasp. She'd not been aware of just how empty she'd been feeling as he bent his mouth to her breast again, licking and sucking as he worked a second finger inside of her. His lifetime as Midfielder seemed to have taught him amazing multitasking as he continued to almost worship her breasts whilst still pumping his fingers in and out of her, trusting Sigrid to rub herself off against his palm.  

She felt like she was being shaken apart from the inside, pressure building up and up within her. With all her remaining consciousness she reached down between them again and tried to lift his cock out of his shorts, struggling to do so but being offered no help from a groaning, moaning and  _ entirely  _ Too Busy Fíli. She managed it one handed though, and began to jerk him off in time to his own motions against her, his groans mingling with her own until she had no idea where one began and the other ended. She gave a shout as his fingers twitched against her G-Spot and he pressed there again, causing her to tug at him with perhaps a bit more force than intended. He gave out a grunt of surprise and Sigrid would have apologised had he ever let her have a chance to think clearly. 

Fíli himself was having a lot of trouble in that regard at the moment as well. He felt in adoration of her and how sensitive she was and he reveled at how even her gentlest touch sent his blood rushing. He nipped at her breast one last time and timed it with a firm press against her clit and suddenly she was clenching around his fingers as she yelled his name so hard he thought it would wake up the neighbourhood. She practically gushed onto him, her orgasm lasting longer than he thought possible, her scream of ecstasy turning almost silent as she rode it out. She calmed down enough to work her hand in firm twists up and down his cock. Soon he too came with her name on his lips, hard and fast with far more force than he'd thought possible.  

He felt exhausted by it and flung his head back against the fence, panting hard. He was sweat soaked and his stomach and was covered in his own come, some of it splattered across her as well. They stayed where they were for the longest time, feeling completely unable to move even as cramp set in. Eventually Sigrid found the energy to roll off of him and rest to the side. By now her hair had become a mass of frizz and her clothes were tangled up around her almost preventing her from moving at all. 

She turned to stare at him, intending to say... something. But instead she just let out a burst of laughter at how completely wrecked he looked, and the realisation that she probably looked even worse. They were a complete mess with absolutely no doubt in mind as to what they'd been up to. The empty pitch and abandoned gear at the sides just added to what had become such a comical picture to them.  

They grasped one another's hands as they continued to break down in laughter and almost missed the flash of car lights that had appeared in the carpark entrance. They cursed as they tried to quickly gather their clothes. Fíli searched around for their abandoned shirts which seemed to have travelled way further than he remembered. He chucked one of them at Sigrid who was still desperately trying to put her bra to rights and in the end just decided to risk it as she pulled the shirt on over her head.  

They were just about somewhere regarding presentable when Galadriel turned the corner, a serene all knowing smile on the pensioner's face. Galadriel was a hockey legend and had been Sigrid's first proper coach and all round supporter—getting caught out like this was truly humiliating. The pair of them gulped as her eyes took them in and the only silver lining was that it wasn't some unsuspecting parent or, worse, camp member.   

"Sorry for leaving you alone for so long," Galadriel said, her penetrating gaze making them feel as though they were being interrogated. "I trust you got on alright though?" 

"Yes, yes oh yes we were, just sitting here weren't we, Sigrid?" gabbled Fíli. 

"Yep. Just sitting here doing nothing and erm, talking. We were talking and er--" 

"--playing hockey. We practiced hockey. See!" Fíli pointed to their sticks. A couple of balls rested between them in a horrifically phallic fashion. Galadriel's smile widened at their terrible and pathetic cover up. 

"Glad to see you're both so committed to your sport. Run along now. I can manage from here." She winked and Fíli and Sigrid practically sprinted back towards the car park. As they did so, Galadriel reached into her pocket and snapped a photo of their retreating backs and texted it to Gandalf with the caption:  

_ I think we've sorted out our little problem. Team GB's Top Players more than Rio Ready. ;)  _

She got a quick reply reading: 

_ I wish I could see their faces when they realise they're wearing the wrong shirts. ;-) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't actually have a game today, but I do tomorrow so I'll let you know the results on an edit. Wish my luck! It'll be my first game in about 18 months!
> 
> Edit: 
> 
> Well, much like Sigrid I spent most of the game at the top of the D getting my skort soaking wet as I played the ball.
> 
> Unlike Sigrid this resulted in a 5-4 loss... and there was no handsome man to swap shirts with afterwards. Though I did swap socks with a girl at the start? 
> 
> Anyway, not a great start to season but at least I saw some action!


	3. The team who score the most goals wins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was, however, quietly keen to add more to the collection.

Sometime between washing the dried spunk off of her and the horrifying realisation that her Team GB Shirt said ‘McBuri’ not ‘Bowman’, Sigrid noticed that she was happy. Not the kind of happy where you feel excited and elated, that instant euphoria that came from doing the things you love—but the sort of general contentment with life. It was a feeling she'd not had since the breakup and having it back again was... nice.  

What was even nicer was that it remained with her for the rest of the week and it was beginning to show in her game. She was somehow able to focus more than she'd been able to in these past few months. Everything about her seemed to relax back to normal and her play was a lot more fluid again, able to show her team the kind of qualities she had that made her part of the squad. She had more than earned her back her spot, and indeed the same could be said for Fíli.  

He in no way wanted to prove his brother right about casual sex being the key to reclaiming his momentum but the facts could not be avoided. Since that frantic, sweaty, mind blasting encounter with Sigrid his game really was back on. He didn't question himself so much when he went in on the attack, and his reaction to rebounds had improved tenfold-- somehow more able to get into the fray and battle harder for control of the pitch. Dwalin had even congratulated him for his increased physicality, earning him a rare smile. When asked for his change in attitude Fíli put it down to his time coaching at the summer camp which, after all, wasn't technically a lie.  

He still had her shirt in the bottom of his bag, freshly cleaned and wrapped up in an M&S bag, hoping for a chance to bump into her at the training camp but so far she'd always been busy or surrounded by her teammates. He suspected he'd stretched her shirt out of shape anyway and that she might not even want it back. He was grateful to see it was the old design not the new one, so there wasn’t any worry about her  _ needing _ it back, but he still felt guilty for keeping a hold of it. He knew some guys liked to keep tokens from their various encounters but, again, that just wasn't who he was. However what his brain seemed very focused on was trying to see her again and feel her body pressed up against his whilst she whispered completely unsavory things in his ear. He still had vague finger nail scratches down his back that had not gone unnoticed by his teammates who'd questioned him relentlessly about it to no avail. He was, however, quietly keen to add more to the collection.  

He was pleasantly surprised then, to receive a text from Sigrid asking to meet up at some point later that week for a coffee. 'Just Coffee.' she'd specified, wishing to have a chance to talk about what had happened that night without any distractions. He'd arrived early to the café hoping to make a good impression; which was ridiculous seeing as they'd already met and worked together before. However this time was very much different. They'd never previously met up outside of training and whilst he didn't want to seem desperate by arriving early, he still wanted to show that he was serious about any potential relationship that could arise between them. Not that he was looking for romance at the moment, that side of life had been almost permanently put on the back burner after too many failed attempts. However more casual hook-ups with a friend sounded more than appealing. He nervously tapped his coffee mug as he waited for her to show up, watching the clock on the wall tick towards their agreed time. At 12:30 exactly she entered the coffee shop and he'd practically flipped the table over as he leaped to his feet to wave her over.  

She was just dressed in loose gym gear, her hair still damp from the shower but when she'd spotted him her eyes had lit up and her smile made her look like Cinderella entering the ballroom. Well, to his eyes at least. She made a drinking motion with her hand as she headed to the counter and he raised his own mug to show that he was sorted. He felt his heart beat a little more frantically in a way he didn't know how to react to. He really needed to find a way to get his act together.

Sigrid slipped into the seat in front of him, sliding over a paper bag as she did so.  

"Gift for you." She explained and Fíli smirked as he took out his own shirt, it too freshly cleaned and folded neatly.  

"Just what I've always wanted." He grinned. "How did you know?" 

"Lucky guess." She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "You got something for me in there as well?" She nodded to the M&S bag and he dutifully handed it over.  

"Sorry if it's a bit, er, out of shape. I'm a bit broader than you. Still not entirely sure how I didn't spot I was wearing the wrong one to begin with!" 

"Well we were both in a bit of a rush to get out of there." She laughed, scratching the side of her face whilst giving him an embarrassed smile. "I erm, wasn't exactly planning on that to happen by the way." 

"Oh trust me, me neither!" said Fíli, holding his hands in the air. "I was literally just there to coach some kids and get back into hockey for the fun of it. With you know, none of this ridiculous GB pressure." 

Sigrid nodded in agreement. Working out at the gym 3 times a week, spending the rest of it training with the other girls and then somehow still managing to keep up with what was going on with her family and make sure they weren't all living off of Oven Chips was the kind of mammoth task she'd not been expecting when she'd first picked up a stick fifteen years ago. She'd not change it for the world though.  

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk about," she said carefully staring into her coffee mug. "You know how I was telling you my game was suffering lately?" 

Fíli nodded, letting her continue as he held his breath for what was to come.  

"Well, it isn't anymore. I'm back to normal and I love it. I don't think so much about her anymore and when I'm playing I feel like I'm part of a team again, and the only thing I can think to put that down to is you."  

"Right," said Fíli fiddling nervously with his empty mug.  

"So, I was wondering how you would feel about an arrangement."  

"What kind of arrangement?" he asked carefully, hoping he knew what she meant but couldn't quite believe he'd be that lucky. Sigrid rolled her eyes at him though and gave a slightly exasperated sigh  

"Do I have to spell it out to you Fíli?" 

"I find in situations such as this that being clear and exact is the most appropriate thing yeah." 

"Touché. Oh well then," she took a deep breath, nervous as to what his reaction would be and worried that he'd think the worse of her. "I was wondering if you would be up for casual no-strings just-between-friends sex on a regular basis with particular note to the matches in Rio." She closed her eyes as she said it, then slowly opened one of them to test out his reaction.  

"So, you don't want to be in a romantic relationship with me, you just want sex?" he checked.  

"Yes," she said firmly. "I am in no way looking for romance or love I just want someone who can make me come in my pants with just a brush of their hand."  

"And that person is me?" asked Fíli, a roguish grin spreading across his face and filling him with renewed confidence. 

"That person is definitely you." She grinned, remembering the way his fingers felt between her legs. A small tingle was already starting just at the memory of it.  

"Well I mean, it does seem like a bit of a tall order," mused  Fíli, scratching his beard.  "Being asked to have regular sex with a beautiful, attractive, funny woman without the worries or pressures associated with dating. I might have to think about it." His smile and twinkling eyes told Sigrid that he was looking for the same in her and was intensely relieved to be on the same page.  

"I do have a small extra suggestion though which might appeal to your more sportsmanlike side though," she said coyly, twisting her mug in her hands. Fíli made an interested sound and leaned in closer as she did the same. "I propose a bet, seeing as this is focused solely on our game plan we make it all about our personal results. Whoever's team wins out of our games gets to take the other person however they like." 

"Care to expand further on this, Ms Bowman? Do you mean that, should the Men's team win, I could, say throw you against a door and fuck you senseless?" 

"And if I won I could straddle your hips and ride you so hard they'd send you off to the equestrian grounds, yes."  

"I'm not sure who's winning in that scenario," he grinned, licking his lips subconsciously. "But any and all options sound intensely appealing. Alright then, Bowman, you've got yourself a deal.” He held his hand out to hers and she shook it with a beaming smile. 

They stayed like that for a moment, hands clasped and heads so close a breath of wind could push them together. Fíli was about to make that final move and claim her lips when an evil and persistent beeping noise came out of his pocket causing Sigrid to pull away completely. He let out a frustrated groan and drew back his chair.  

"Sorry, my turn at the gym it would seem." 

"Totally understand." She smiled. "It's the price we pay if we want gold."  

Fíli hummed irritatedly as he threw his kit bag over his shoulder. He hesitated as he looked down at her, uncertain over the best way to say goodbye. Should he kiss her, or give her a wave or just a nod or... what was the appropriate form of etiquette in saying goodbye to someone you'd just agreed to regularly fuck? Sigrid seemed to sense his confusion though and made the decision for him. She stood up to draw him into a quick hug before sending him on his way with a friendly peck on the cheek.  

She got the impression that this whole scenario was going to be something they'd both have trouble understanding at first, but so long as they understood what the needs of the others were then things would turn out fine for sure. After all, loads of people were in these kind of relationships—athletes in particular. It would turn out okay in the end, right? 

In a corner of the café, hiding behind a copy of Jane Austen's  _ Emma _ , Galadriel sipped at her iced tea and gave another smirk. It seemed their plan was going perfectly.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We won our game 7-0 today! Which would be great were I not a Goal Keeper and so spent an hour standing at the end of the pitch getting cold. 
> 
> At one point they came down the wing, entered the D and I thought, yes this is my moment! I might touch the ball! And then she knocked it off the side line by herself... I guess I just look threatening...


	4. Sticks can now be lifted above the hip so long as it is done safely.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That was the best opening I’ve seen in years."

Not a lot had really changed since their initial meeting in the café. They were only a week away from their departure to Rio, thus any spare time away from training was spent stocking up on After Sun and other necessary lubricants. Neither had the energy in the evenings for anything beyond a few illicit text messages with promises of more exciting things to come. Their days were spent in quiet sexual frustration, their only comfort the new material their fumble on Pitch 1 had provided them for use late at night in bed or in the shower.

They’d both agreed to keep things quiet between them so as not to invite suspicion from their teammates or, indeed, families. Tilda had enjoyed the benefits of having two sisters, along with the tantalising promise of a potential wedding. Especially as it would have included  _ two _ beautiful princess dresses instead of just the one. _ Obviously _ Tilda had been sad for Sigrid as well, that went without saying, but it was the dresses she would mourn the most. She was still bitter that there hadn’t been  _ any  _ beautiful white gowns at her da’s wedding to Thranduil. Despite her many heartfelt angry protests, they’d both opted for boring black suits. 

Then there came the prospect of Sigrid’s father and step-father finding out about her ‘fuck-buddy’. The very idea made her want to run for the hills and take up a life as a goat farmer. Not that her fathers wouldn’t be accepting of her choice, however they were her parents; and she didn’t want them knowing anymore about her sex life than she knew about theirs. Which, thanks to a family holiday in the New Forest last summer, was far too much already.

Fíli felt the same towards his own family. His brother would be intolerable if he knew he’d been right all along about him just needing a shag, and Fíli would not be able to stand his smug face whenever they met up in Rio. The prospect of Dís finding out he was sleeping with a hockey star would only cause her to plot which clubs and/or country her future grandchildren would play for given their genetic code. It’d be too much if they were actually dating, and hell on earth when they really were just in it for sex. Thorin would heavily disapprove, but he usually disapproved of everything that wasn’t related to Bilbo.

As for their teammates, neither Sigrid nor Fíli were prepared to deal with that particular can of worms. Their past experiences had taught them that much at least.

The only person who had any kind of understanding of what they were getting up to was Éowyn. Sigrid were sharing a room with her in the village and so it had seemed only polite to let her know what was going on, though she kept the details vague. All she told her was that she had entered into a mutually beneficial relationship with another athlete, who would remain nameless for personal reasons, and would require the room free during certain unanimously agreed upon periods. Éowyn had agreed straight away, more than happy to hear that her friend had seemingly moved on after her brother’s act of betrayal.

“I’m more than capable of finding my own bed for the night, anyway.” She explained with the air of confidence found only in experience. This would be Éowyn’s fifth international tournament, after all, and it wasn’t just Sigrid and Fíli who understood the value of a good fuck.

They were due to arrive in Rio a couple of days before the start of the games in order to get settled and acclimatise. Even though it was technically winter out there it did not change the fact that it would still be far hotter than many a British Isles Citizen would be capable of handling. Fíli, for one, had once gotten severe heat stroke playing in Nottingham; and between the months of May and September you’d be forgiven for thinking Sigrid were simply a rather attractive strawberry wearing a skirt.

Once they’d arrived they’d still not found themselves with any alone time. The city was unlike any Sigrid had been to before. Giant tower blocks and bustling city streets sat alongside a gorgeous white sandy beach with some of the most breathtaking coastal views in the world. Then there was the backdrop of deep green forests, Sugar Loaf Mountain rising up high above the city with the promise of adventure and discovery. Both teams knew that if they didn’t travel up the mountain then it would only stare at them during training and distract them from their mission to win. If all of that wasn’t enough to distract someone from the promise of a good shag, there was the fact that wherever Fíli or Sigrid looked,  _ Cristo Redentor _ had his eyes on them. Sigrid could practically hear Bain’s knowing laugh as he warned her to ‘make room for Jesus’.

This would be Sigrid’s first tournament away from her family and, if she was honest, she was finding the concept terrifying. The Olympics; the Commonwealth Games; The World Cup had all taken place on UK Soil and even the Euros weren’t so hard to get to, what with Belgium being only a train ride away. However there was no way her whole family could come out and be with her this time around. Even if they could find the money for four plane tickets (plus accommodation) there was no chance Tilda would be able to cope with an eleven-hour flight. However Sigrid also knew that this was the kind of opportunity she could not let slip through her fingers due to something as immature as fear of being homesick. She’d have to trust herself to her teammates this time, and know that the rest of her family would be cheering her on from back home.

All of that alongside jet lag being the Evil Hell Demon that it is, the only night Fíli and Sigrid had found themselves with any energy had been the night of the Opening Ceremony. Both GB hockey teams had matches the next day, and normally the squad would not show up so as to get a decent night's sleep instead. The ceremony could also overwhelm players, reminding them of the daunting grandeur of the whole event. Many athletes decided it best to haul in somewhere private for the next two weeks. However this year Dagní was the GB flag bearer and there was no way any of them were going to miss that. She was not only going to be the first openly asexual athlete but also Britain’s first Black athlete to carry their nation's flag as they lead out the whole team for the world to see. Dagní was  _ determined _ to do it one handed, all the way around, just to prove a point and win a bet with one of the other athletes. The bet involved rather a fair bit of nudity and a Union Flag. She’d been vague on the details, but Sigrid could tell the Unnamed Tennis Player was going to regret his words.

As was traditional, all the athletes were dressed like budget travel reps (save for a few of the African nations-- who looked like the kind of deities worshiped to out of both love and fear). All Fíli could say that at least his blue jacket and pleated shorts were a damn sight better than what the Irish had to wear.

“Oh my Goodness, you look like Luigi,” he pronounced by way of a hello as his little brother bounded up to him for a hug. It was the first time an Irish sports team of any kind had qualified for the Olympics since qualification itself was introduced in 1988; and the first hockey team to enter since 1908-- back when they were still part of the British Empire. They’d come close to qualifying for the last two olympic rotations but had always missed out right at the last moment. This was finally their time and they were all keen to soak up as much of the atmosphere as humanly possible. Most of them had jobs to go back to next week, they had to give their colleagues some decent stories to make it worth the unpaid time off.

Which was exactly why Kíli was acting like a hyperactive puppy. Fíli could only hope no officials were watching too closely otherwise they’d have taken him away for drug testing there and then.

“I know, it’s fantastic isn’t it!” he cried, doing a quick twirl to show off his atrocious green and blue jumpsuit.

In Fíli’s personal opinion, the outfit was in close competition with the Austrians’ lederhosen for the gold medal in Hideousness. However he didn’t have the heart to tease his brother any further, not when his eyes shone like that. There was something about it that caught Fíli off guard though. He noticed that Kíli’s beard had grown a lot more since the last time they’d spoken, and the four months he’d spent training over in Ireland had already begun to thicken up his accent. That combined with his sparkling brown eyes and dimpled smile, he’d become almost the spitting image of their father. Fíli didn’t know how to react to that. Víli had died when Fíli was still a teenager and had never seen his sons play in any kind of major tournament. Having his image before Fíli now felt like too much, too many raw memories and missed opportunities and so, so many regrets. If Kíli was the one keeping his memory alive and doing their father proud, where did that leave Fíli in all this?

“This is amazing have you seen all of this, literally everyone is here--  _ everyone _ ,” continued Kíli, oblivious to his brother’s set back. “I didn’t even know half these countries  _ existed  _ before today!”

“Kí, you’ve watched this every year since you were a kid. You were  _ at  _ the London Opening Ceremony.” Fíli sighed fondly, glad to be back on familiar ground.

“Yeah, but only as a spectator. It’s different when you’re amongst them all and can actually talk to people! Or, well, try.” He frowned. “Google Translate is not as helpful as you might think.”

“And here I thought Sport was meant to be an international language,” chuckled Fíli. “Oh well, at least you’re able to make friends with some of them aye?”

“I am going to fuck the entire American Swim Team and there is nothing you can do to stop me,” he replied with the sort of determined tone that usually resulted in a trip to A&E.  

“Not sure that’s a wise idea,” Sigrid commented, coming over to say hello. She vaguely knew Kíli from the hockey circuit, just as she vaguely knew most of the European players. She was also shagging his brother, so thought it polite to at least be on good terms.

“And why is that, er, Sigrid, right?”

“Because most of them are already taken by other athletes who are way too competitive to share. And yeah, it’s Sigrid.  We met last time you guys played up in Rohan?”

“Ah yes! Of course we did!” he nodded eagerly, choosing to ignore her unwanted health and safety advice with regards to his libido. “I mean, I also know you because I do actually watch hockey as well as playing fantastically, but it’s good to know that we have actually met before.”

Sigrid raised an eyebrow. “Even if you can’t remember?”

“I don’t remember a lot from that night to be honest,” Kíli apologised, scratching the back of his neck. “Although Facebook tells me I drank a pint of lager from out of my shoe.”

“He did,” said Fíli with a long-suffering tone. “I tried to get Stonehelm to delete the photo but no luck.”

“Hockey Lads Gonna Lad,” shrugged Kíli, turning to Sigrid. “Just because he’s Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes, thinks we should all follow his lead. Come on, I bet there are plenty of Facebook photos of you and the girls drinking out of imaginative objects.”

Sigrid thought about this for a moment. There had certainly been plenty of embarrassing photos from her university days, pictures of her dressed in various stupid costumes from nights out and Initiation Tests. However she’d gone through those and diligently deleted them all from fear of anyone at work finding them; or worse, from any of the press seeking to embarrass a national athlete. Clearly no one had given this message to Kíli, but then again the Irish press probably had more to care about than what their hockey team were up to. Hockey was still only considered by the public as a sport for second-generation kids whose parents couldn’t find a Hurling or Camogie club in their new nations. However if the next two weeks went well, that could all be changing.

“Well, she won’t be getting up to anything like it on my watch, and I suggest the same of you, Irish,” came Tauriel’s voice from behind.

Kíli looked Tauriel up and down with the kind of terrified awe she deserved, all thoughts of swimmers gone from his mind. At six foot three, with green eyes and auburn hair, Tauriel looked exactly like the kind of tree spirit people back in Ireland would still go to extreme lengths to appease; leaving offerings inside ancient shrines and building roads in twisting bends so as to avoid disturbing fairy rings. Kíli silently vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to appease this particular spirit, in the vague blissful hope that it would eventually involve a bed and perhaps some wedding vows.

Sigrid and Fíli exchanged amused facial expressions as Kíli continued to resemble a dead fish, completely incapable of forming any sort of sentence. Suddenly his brain seemed to click into gear and he had a lot to say all at once, his thickening Irish accent not helping the matter. It sounded rather a bit like:

“I’d do anything that ya’d want of me anything at all name it I’ll do it now so I will feck you’re gorgoeus as the day is long ain’t ya? Me name’s Kíli what’s yours?”

Tauriel blinked at him, having been unable to process anything that had come out of his mouth. She felt even more confused at the snickering coming from his brother and Sigrid, both of whom were familiar enough with the dialect to tell just how much of an eejit he had made of himself.

“Okay GB! You are going next!” called a steward, frantically trying to gather up the athletes into some sort of order. Kíli was forced to stare forlornly as Tauriel walked away from him, though his confidence was boosted greatly when he spotted her looking back at him over her shoulder. If he had a tail, it would be wagging frantically.

Sigrid wound her way to the front of the group, where Dagní was standing shifting the flagpole from side to side. Her eyes were fixed distantly on the light coming from the entrance to the stadium.

“You alright there Dag?” she asked, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Nervous?”

“No!” she snapped back, gripping the flagpole tighter. “Why would I be nervous? It’s just some dumb flag why should I be worried about it?”

“No reason at all,” said Sigrid casually. “It’s no different to having to go out with it on your shirt.”

“Exactly.” Dagní replied rather stiffly.

“You’re not representing your country any more or any less than you would be otherwise.”

“Damn straight.” she nodded, her breathing becoming slightly heavier.

“Dagní?”

“Yeah? What?”

“You’re going to be amazing and you’re going to do everyone back home really proud.” She smiled, starting to rub reassuring circles on her back. “You’re not going to trip over your feet, you’re not going to drop the flag, you’re going to go out there and show the world what you’re made of. Plus more importantly, you’re going to win that bet.”

Dagní’s posture shifted slightly into something more relaxed. Her breathing became steadier as the promise of competition turned fear into determination.

“I like these bicycle things with the country names on them.” She said at last, indicating the carts that would accompany them round the stadium. They were all brightly coloured and decorated with flowers, a reflection of both the vibrancy of the city as well the ceremony’s theme of sustainability.  “Remember the Highland Terriers at Glasgow though?” she continued, glancing briefly at Sigrid before turning back to the front of the line.

“I remember how you tried to take one home with you and got told off by the stewards for over-exciting them.”

“Yeah. The Terriers were awesome.” She nodded, not really listening to her friend at all. “They should have puppies at every tournament.”

The crowd surged forward and a few minutes later, the whole of team GB were walking out on the main stage for the first time. Sigrid felt a rush of excitement run through her as the crowds began to cheer. Back home she knew that her family would be watching them with solar-eclipsing smiles. She also knew that Lothíriel was probably staying up late to watch as well. The thought made Sigrid’s own smile grow by an inch or two. She was going to make this the best Olympics team GB had ever seen, and make her good-for-nothing-ex know  _ exactly _ what she was missing out on.

Following on at the back, Fíli was also thinking about what his own family would be up to right this moment. His mother would have called everyone round to watch at hers, and they’d all be glued to the TV trying to spot all the athletes they knew and cheering like crazy whenever they saw one of their own. She’d also be glued to the set during her sons’ matches, shouting words of encouragement as she tried to coach them through the screen. He could practically hear her now, telling him to pass into space and to watch his feet inside the D so as to not give away any short corners and risk conceding a goal. 

“This year is your year,” she’d said to him as he’d kissed her goodbye at the airport. “Whatever happens, I know you’ll make us all proud.”

Fíli was determined to do just that. This time he would finally bring her home a gift in gold or silver to thank her for all these years of support and give the Great Dís Durinson a  _ reason _ to be proud of him. It was starting to feel like his last chance to do so.

He’d be 30 when Tokyo rolled around. That wasn’t exactly old but it was getting up there for hockey players. After all, his Mum had won an Olympic Bronze by then  _ and _ given birth to him.

These tournaments had a way of sneaking up on you as well. You were barely over one when the next came along and you realised it had been four years and what had you really done with your life?

Since London, the England Women had won a Silver Commonwealth Medal  _ and _ a European Gold. Meanwhile the men’s side hadn’t progressed from a semi final since 2009. Which meant it was ever since he’d joined the team, a dark part of his brain told him. They’d not progressed in seven years because that’s when he’d begun to get involved.

Fíli shook his head, trying to get rid of the invasive thoughts. He couldn’t get into this downward spiral again, not a day before their first game. He needed someone to help him out, he needed a person who could—

“Penny for your thoughts,” smiled Sigrid, coming over to him and placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her and felt an instant sense of relief wash through him.

“Nothing,” he laughed, already feeling foolish, “just the usual pre-match nerves.”

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that later won’t we?” she said, taking out a small silver packet and putting it in his shirt pocket on the pretense of fixing his collar. 

He bit his lip and tried to compose himself as he processed everything that was happening; the continued roar of the crowd, the chatter from the athletes, the acute awareness that the camera could trail onto them at any moment and most importantly the devilish smile of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted: him.

“Stay near the back of the group when everyone leaves,” she whispered into his ear. “I’ll come find you and we can go somewhere quiet.” Her hand brushed up his arm as she turned back round to seek out some of her friends from the other nations.

Fíli breathed a sigh as he looked about himself, realising that nobody had been paying them any attention. There were so many pitfalls to this plan of theirs. So many ways they could be found out and have it fall down around their ears as the gossip eclipsed all they’d been working for the past four years. Then he looked over at Sigrid and the way she flung her head back when she laughed. He grinned shyly to himself, believing his emotions to be based upon memories of sensitive flesh and gasping breaths.

After the ceremony, all the athletes slowly made their way back towards the village en masse. There was excited talk amongst them all, people jumping on the balls of their feet desperate to make a start as soon as possible. Lots of the athletes had decided to get an early night, particularly the older and more experienced ones, but tonight was a night for the young. Fíli did as Sigrid told him to and trailed near the back of the group, letting his teammates go ahead of him with the excuse that he wanted to hang back and talk to his brother. However he already knew that Kíli was worming his way back towards Tauriel in a second attempt to form a sentence around her, and so he kept his eyes open for Sigrid.

He felt a hand slip into his and begin to tug him towards the edge of the crowd. “Come with me,” said Sigrid eagerly.

“I believe that is the whole point of this endeavour, yes.” He smirked, earning himself an exasperated snort. She led them down past the security guards and towards the stadium toilets. Fíli looked about nervously as she opened the door to the disabled cubicle and ushered him inside.

“If we get caught we are going to be in so much trouble,” he said with a nervous laugh as Sigrid locked the door behind them.

“Well then we’ll have to be quick I guess,” she grinned.

“Sorry, nothing quick about me. You want someone who’s over in a minute you should have found yourself a sprinter.”

“A marathon man then?” she asked, rocking herself up against him and starting to pull apart his jacket.

“Long distance for sure,” he replied, his voice turning husky as he helped her shrug off her own uniform.

Sigrid gave him a wolfish grin as she shoved him up against the wall. “We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”

For a moment she just pressed her body next to his, staring down at him with a predatory gaze, as though deciding which part of him she was going to devour first. Her mouth hovered over his for a second as she breathed him in, but her dark eyes and red lips were too much for Fíli’s patience. He was not going to let her have all the fun. He reached up and pulled her down towards him for a messy, biting kiss. There was nothing fairytale about this moment, nothing perfect or life altering. It was filled with pure desire, a lust that had been boiling up between them for weeks that could finally be released.

Fíli was getting the most glorious crick in his neck as she slid her tongue into his mouth and across his own. He changed the angle of the kiss and sucked on her tongue, drawing her closer towards him as he did so. She let out a guttural groan, her fingers digging into his hair as she pulled him completely flush against her. Her grip was so tight he felt hair being ripped from his scalp but he didn’t care as he pulled away for breath only to come back in again to graze his teeth against her lips.

He felt her positively melt against him, pulling his hands from the side of her face and shifting them further down her body to rest at her waist. He struggled to pull her shirt up out of her skirt as she continued to rut up against him, neither of them wanting to take a single second away from the other. She arched up into him as his fingers began to run up against her soft over-sensitised skin, her moaning turning into breathless whimpers. She shifted her thigh between his and that gentle touch was almost enough to make him shout. But he was still aware that too much noise would bring attention to them and instead he buried the sound into her neck, yanking her shirt down far enough so that nobody could see the marks he was leaving. The buttons popped apart in the process but neither of them cared, only grateful that it exposed yet more flesh to be touched and licked and worshiped.

He brought his hand up to cup her through her bra as he continued to press kisses along her throat. Sigrid was only capable of clinging onto his head to lock him in place as her whole body quivered beneath him. She needed more. Needed to feel more skin. Needed to feel him inside of her. She felt so damn empty and desperate that it wasn’t fair anymore. She could feel his erection rubbing against the inside of her thigh and the promise of it was killing her.

“Condom,” she gasped. “Please?” She begged as Fíli only continued his barrage against her, bending his head now to lick across the swell of her breast. She tried to push him away from her but felt as if all her strength had dissolved. He took the message though and broke away from her with a quiet:  _ Wha _ ?

“Condom,” she said again, not sure she was able to form any other words at this moment. 

He blinked up at her, taking in her completely dishevelled appearance, her shirt still tucked in at one side, completely wrinkled and crushed. Her buttons were all undone at the top but still closed at the bottom, the shoulder pulled down just far enough to show off the reddening skin from where he’d been mouthing at her. Fíli caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and saw that he was in a similar state, his shirt a rumpled mess and mouth hanging open. He licked his lips and tasted blood from their kiss and found himself letting out a small laugh. Sigrid was now inelegantly balancing on one wobbly leg and it took him a moment to realise that she was struggling out of her knickers. She had an expectant and exasperated look on her face as she made a vague hand motion telling him to hurry up whatever it was he was meant to be doing.

Oxygen began to seep back into his brain as he realised what was going on and, indeed, what was about to happen. He quickly yanked down his shorts and attempted to kick them off past his trainers in a sudden rush that had him almost toppling over. There was an instant relief he felt as his cock was finally freed and he quickly busied himself with the condom throwing the packet into the sink. Sigrid’s eyes were pinned to his hands as he rolled it on, seeming to be restraining herself from just launching forward there and then. She quickly shoved a hand up underneath her own skirt for a quick stroke to keep her focussed for a moment. Just enough to satisfy that initial flood of want.

However as soon as she moved her wrist Fíli was on her again, shoving her skirt up past her waist. She felt her hip hit the doorknob as he threw her against the door with a growl and she let out a yelp of pain which he swallowed up with his hungry mouth. He pulled her hand away from between her legs and replaced it with his own. She felt her eyes flutter shut as he rubbed his whole palm across her.

“You’re enjoying that aren’t you?” he whispered in her ear, his voice dark and husky. 

Sigrid could only nod as she continued to rut against him, letting out the occasional high pitched whine as he nibbled at her neck. It wasn’t long before the world started to turn white. She tried to scream his name but his spare hand came up to muffle it. 

“You scream like that and you’ll get us caught.” He laughed, keeping his hand in place as she rode out her orgasm, the pressure of it somehow causing her to quiver even more.

She didn't have a moment to recover though as he at last moved his hands round to her bottom, squeezing it slightly as he easily lifted her up against the door. She’d forgotten how strong he was and let out a slight burst of laughter that turned to a gasp she felt his cock rub up between her folds.

Fíli was too far gone to bother with niceties right now. He was throbbing for it, desperate to feel her wrapped around him. “God Sigrid, do you know how long I’ve been waiting to have you like this?” he growled into her neck. “All wet and ready for me.”

“About three weeks?” she said, trying for witty and failing as he rutted against her once more.

“Feels like much fucking longer. You’ve been desperate too though, haven’t you? Tell me how much you want me too.”

“Fíli, please,” she whined, “you want it, I want it so just  _ get on _ with it.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Fine then. Have it your way.”

He shifted her against him once more, taking a second to get the angle right and slowly pushed inside her. Her gentle gasp matched his own as he began to thrust into her, pulling her down onto him in quick strokes.

“Yes!” She shrieked. “Like that oh fuck, yes! Fíli—yes. Harder! Yes!”

She grabbed a hold of his face and began to kiss him again, her legs wrapped around his waist to lock herself in place. Her back banged against the door with each movement, loud enough to surely bring someone running but neither were in the position to think straight right about now.

Fíli felt himself to begin to lose complete control as Sigrid continued her attack on his mouth. It was all he could do to hold on as his thrusting became more and more erratic. He felt heat rise up within him with each stroke, starting low in his belly and then blazing throughout him. He clung onto Sigrid for all he was worth and felt her hand slip down from his neck to bury itself between them. He let out a deep groan as he felt her begin to play at her clit, her tiny spasms dragging him along with her. He pulled away from her mouth gulping for air. 

“Sigrid you’re so, fuck, you’re so, I’m not gonna--”

“Good.” she said panting. “Let go. I wanna feel you come for me. I wanna feel you forget everything else.” 

He finally gave into the fire and felt it engulf him as the world burnt away until there was nothing left in it but her. She gave breathy pleas of half formed words as she rubbed herself harder and harder until she came once more. He closed his eyes, focusing on the mix of sensations as he let her ride it out against him, finding his own release amidst her pleasure, his mind going gloriously blank.

She rested her head on his once she was done, letting him shift her off of him in his own time and place her carefully back on the ground. His heart was still pumping wildly as he sunk to the floor, thankful that the bathroom was new and unused. His twisted round so his back was against the door, looking up at her with something akin to adoration. Sigrid joined him, her hand resting on his knee as she got her breath back.

They both felt bruised and sore, for a second doubting if this was really the best idea for a start to the tournament. However nothing in the world right now could make them regret what had just happened. Sigrid gently patted Fíli’s knee, still unable to form words and Fíli just nodded and made a vague gesture of reciprocation. He eventually clambered to his feet and pulled the condom off, tying it in a quick knot before shoving it into the bin. He threw a bundle of toilet paper on top to avoid any suspicion.

He looked back over at Sigrid, still stuck to the floor, covered in sweat and looking gorgeous with her skirt still hiked up around her middle. There was a glimpse of wet golden curls just visible from where he stood. A shiver of desire ran through him again, but he already felt like he barely had the energy to walk back to the village, let alone go for a second round.

A minute passed as they said nothing and just stared at one another with matching grins until Fíli finally helped Sigrid to her feet.

“Well, that was certainly one way to begin the tournament. This is gonna be the best two weeks yet if that’s anything to go by.” She laughed, leaning against the door still as she tried to recover from the head rush.

“You’re telling me.” He grinned, starting to push his hair back into some kind of order. “That was the best opening I’ve seen in years.”

It took Sigrid a moment to realise what he said and duly hit him across the shoulder for it, but laughed all the same. They both felt well and truly fucked, still tender and tingling in all the right places.

They quickly began to gather their clothes, making sure that they had the correct ones this time. They helped the other tuck everything back into place and check that things weren’t too obvious as to what exactly they’d been up to. They were aware that they’d not been able to keep that quiet towards the end, and someone could likely slam the door in on them any moment.

“All done?” asked Fíli, looking her up and down in one final check as well. Sigrid nodded and opened the door a crack to poke her head around it.

“Thank fuck nobody’s about, alright let’s go.” She beckoned to Fíli and they both slipped out of the toilet. They walked as fast as they could back out of the stadium, trying not to attract any attention in the process. When they reached the main entrance hall they broke out into a run, racing out into the open air, laughing like teenagers.

The stars shone brightly in the night sky as the newly lit flame blazed amongst them, a series of spinning golden mirrors reflecting its light across the stadium.

The Greatest Show on Earth had begun. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No match this weekend, I could have gone down to play Quidditch but I stayed and did my coursework instead/watched IPlayer. 
> 
> But I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please comment if you did so as it really encourages me to continue to post/write and not give up on this all together...


	5. Stick tackles are illegal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words didn’t seem so hard to find anymore and in his head the Backstreet Boys started playing.

Sigrid woke up the next day alone in bed and feeling deliciously sore. Most would not consider waking up with an ache in your back and a blossoming bruise on your hip bone a good way to start your first day of a two week tournament. Those people needed to get a grip on their lives. The marks on her skin were simply a reminder of what had happened, bringing back with it a fresh wave of dopamine which acted as the perfect drug against any and all nerves. Today was an important match for Sigrid even without the pressure of Day One and she could not allow anything to interfere with her game plan.

Despite what many people believed, Sigrid was not actually English. She might live in England, she might speak English and play for an English Club, but none of that counterbalanced the fact that she was Welsh born and bred, with a kick of Northern Irish thrown in there for good measure. So like any other self-respecting Welsh-woman she’d refused to play under the England Flag. She was happy to play under The  _ Union _ Flag of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but when given the option between a red dragon and a red cross—well, any six year old would know the right answer to that one!

As such, she had been part of the Welsh team during the Glasgow Commonwealth games. Wales weren’t an experienced squad and this showed no more than when they faced off up against Australia who had, in a manner of words, completely annihilated them 9-0 in front of a home crowd. The English side didn’t fare much better, narrowly losing to Australia in the Final thanks to penalties. Australia had played ruthlessly throughout the tournament, taking no prisoners and relishing in destroying the Home Nations. As such, everyone on Team GB, no matter their affiliation, felt as if they had a score to settle when it came to the ‘Hockey-Roos’. 

 

Plus, Lothíriel had family who played for Australia, a pair of male cousins who she continuously went on about like they were God’s Gift to Hockey. Like they were all so much better than Sigrid could ever be. The more Sigrid remembered about them the more she felt determined to destroy them.

However as proved last time, anger and spite were not going to help them win the match. The English players had a Gold European Medal having beaten the likes of Germany and the Netherlands to steady their nerves and remind them of their skill. Sigrid, as a Welsh player, didn’t have that comfort. Much better though, was the memory of a solid torso between her thighs and a wet hot mouth against her breast.

Yes, today Sigrid had a point to prove and she was not going to take any prisoners this time. These heirs of convicts were going down! 

 

~*~

 

Sigrid wasn’t sure if it was just that their team were playing their A Game, but she thought that Australia seemed to have lost their edge slightly. The game was still tough and there had been many a close scare, especially when the Aussies had equalised with a goal from a short corner. The awarding of Short Corners was designed to give advantage to attacking players who’d been fouled in the scoring D; they were set plays and were  _ meant _ to make goals easier. Having a team like Australia score against you that way was nothing to be ashamed of, and even Dagní had to admit there was nothing she could have done to stop it from going in.  

However nothing the other side threw at them phased Sigrid anymore, no matter how hard  Australia fought, the British side fought back harder and faster. Right in the last moments of the last quarter, Sigrid had been able to knock the ball into the D, where it was picked up by Éowyn. She didn’t waste a single second on the ball and hit it straight against backboard, taking the score to 2-1 and winning them the game.

It was the perfect way to start the tournament. The squad left the wild celebrations until they were back in the changing room as though, unlike their opponents, they would remain sportsmanlike. 

“We beat the scum bags!” shouted Dagní from the top of the changing room bench, a bottle of lucozade raised up above her head like a chalice. The girls all roared their approval and drank to victory, chugging down cold water as they tried their best to get rehydrated.

“Okay ladies, enough of that,” said Háma, shoving her way into the room and looking at them all with the same kind of smile one gave to a group of noisy children in a playground.  “This is not in the spirit of the games. We’re going to be the bigger team here, remember?”

“More like better team,” said Hild, high-fiving her wife sitting next to her.

“Girls,” warned Tauriel, turning round to give them a quelling stare, not needing to say any more.

“Thanks Tau,” nodded Háma before taking the floor again. “You’ve done great today and you should be proud of yourselves, it’s the perfect way to start the tournament. So give yourselves a pat on the back.”

Everyone patted their own left shoulder in unison, causing them all to burst into another fit of giggles. Háma shook her head fondly once more. “But remember, this is one game. We’ve got seven games left to win. The board is clear, the score sheet is empty. We take each game as it comes. I expect to see you all up for training tomorrow, no excuses,” she stared at a slightly guilty looking Pearl, who was famous for her lack of time keeping.

Sigrid didn’t care though. She’d achieved her goal and knew she’d played well enough to do her country proud, and she was going to celebrate in the best possible way. She grinned to herself as she subtly shifted her legs against one another. Oh yes, tonight was going to be one to remember.

 

~*~

Fíli felt like shit.

It had really not been the best start to a tournament and he was barely able to pull together any sort of positives from the match. Sure, he’d scored a goal but the Belgians had scored three more than that. Each sound of the ball hitting the backboard made him flinch. Everyone knew that you needed a strong start to the games. You had to make a good first impression so as everyone knew you were there to win. The Belgians had done just that, the British had not.

They just weren’t working like a team, that was the problem. Their passing was scrappy, they weren’t calling to one another and there just wasn’t that certain  _ flow _ that was needed to gain victory. They were a determined bunch, strong and willing to put up a fight but that meant sod all when you couldn’t get the ball into the D to begin with. They had plenty of chances, but they just weren’t converting them.

He thought longingly of the women’s team and their seamless passing. Even when they were being intercepted they still had such a great fluidity to them. It was beautiful to watch. The reminder of the women’s team gave him one hell of a silver lining to all this though. He’d received a text from Sigrid earlier, telling him that she would be waiting in her room and he was to come and find her as soon as he was done playing.

Alas he’d not been able to get there quite as soon as he’d have liked. There had been a long and painful team talk afterwards designed to chastise and encourage at the same time. It had left him feeling worse than he had before. Then the lads had tried to persuade him to come back with them, and he’d had to come up with some sort of excuse that didn’t involve a beautiful woman waiting to fuck him senseless.

He’d then had to try and scrape the sweat off of his skin, find something suitable to wear and make sure he hadn’t got anything embarrassing stuck in his teeth. He shouldn’t be nervous. He’d done this before, heck he’d had done  _ her _ before. She didn’t mind what he wore as she was usually determined to forcibly remove it anyway. He shook his head and tugged at his shirt. He didn’t have anything to worry about. He had this. Probably.

Fíli hesitated again when he got to her door. She’d given him a spare card key in order to avoid suspicion. The idea was that he would look as though he were just entering his own room, rather than entering into an illicit affair. However something held him back, an innate sense of English manners that said one couldn’t simply invite oneself into somebody else’s room without knocking first.

But through the door he thought he could hear a muffled moan, and as so often happened when he was around Sigrid, all concepts of manners disappeared from his mind. He shoved the door open and the sight that met him made his jaw drop as everything within him went temporarily off-line.

Sigrid was laying flat out on her single bed, stripped just to lacy black underwear, one hand moving frantically between her legs as she gripped onto the bed sheet with the other.  She bucked her hips forward and let out a groan that sounded like his name. He really didn’t want her to stop, his rapidly growing hard on was certain of that. He thought it wise, though, to let her know he was there. He gave a rather dry cough that made her eyes fling open and pin him down with a glare.

“I told you to get here as soon as your game ended,” she said sternly, her posture completely aggressive despite her compromising position.

“I er, got hold up?” he said rather lamely, eyes trailing down to where her fingers were still slipping in and out of her with an obscene sound. He became distantly aware that she had not simply pulled her knickers to the side, nor rub herself through them, but was wearing crotchless panties. His cock gave an impatient twitch.

“You made me start without you,” she chastised.

“Sorry?” he offered weakly.

“You should be. You’re really going to have to find a way to make up for it.” She rose up to her knees and beckoned him closer. Fíli instinctively complied. “Now then McBuri, did you win or lose this game of yours?”

“We lost,” he said, feeling as if he’d never understood the word in all its meanings before. Not only was he one game down and bottom of the table, but he was now at the mercy of this beautiful, powerful woman and her eyes that spoke of furious passion. He was completely in over his head, terrified that he might say or do something at any moment that would cause it all to come screeching to a halt.

Sigrid felt a genuine pang of sympathy. She might have suggested this bet on a ‘win or lose’ basis but she had mainly hoped it would come down to goal difference. Whoever scored the most got to, well, score. She tried to push it from her mind though. The whole reason for this was to help clear them of any doubts and invasive thoughts from their brains, and that was needed the most after a loss.

“Well then it seems you’re under my command now doesn’t it?”

Fíli nodded once more. Words were very hard to come by at this precise point in time.

“Alright then,” continued Sigrid, sitting on the edge of the bed and ordering Fíli to stay put with a commanding hand. “I want you to strip for me, McBuri. I want you to do it slowly and I want you to do it in the most entertaining way you can.” Her hand slipped gently between her thighs, caressing her skin with an air of offered reward.

Fíli hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t exactly wearing the kind of clothes one usually associated with stripping. The navy blue button down would work well enough, but the jeans, business shoes and, he realised rather pathetically, cotton-polyester socks from John Lewis his Mum had bought him, might not quite do the job. However, if she wanted him to strip then strip he would. He was, after all, hers to control.

Suddenly, a memory of a movie Kíli had made him watch sprung to mind and a roguish grin spread across his face. Words didn’t seem so hard to find anymore and in his head the Backstreet Boys started playing.

He began by turning his back to her and slowly bending at the waist on the pretence of untying his shoes. He lowered his arms in an elegant swoop, attempting to exaggerate the movement to show off what the Good Lord (and nearly twenty years of hockey) had given him. Sigrid would have found it hilarious were it not for the tight pull of his jeans against what she knew to be a very firm and muscular arse.

Having now rid himself of his shoes he bent back up straight and turned his face round to stare at her over his shoulder with a hungry expression. He clasped his hand round his arse as he did so, giving himself a tight squeeze. Sigrid looked like she did not know whether she should be laughing or wanking, and seemed to be settling somewhere in the middle. A massive grin spread across her face as her fingers still gently toyed with herself.

Fíli clumsily pirouetted on the spot to face her fully, jumping into a solid position with his feet hip width apart. He gave an experimental thrust of his hips and was pleased to see Sigrid’s jaw drop slightly as her eyes became focussed on the movement. He began to slowly undo his shirt one button at a time, wiggling in time to non-existent music. He knew it must make him look ridiculous but Sigrid continued grin made it all worthwhile.

“This is definitely one of the best decisions I have ever made.” She nodded, talking to herself more than to him.

“Well I am more than happy to be of service to you, my lady.” He smiled as he finished pulling apart the buttons. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked with a polite air as he flapped open one side of the shirt, then the other, giving Sigrid a preview of his bare chest. Fíli was no fool. He knew exactly how good he looked with his shirt off and his well-defined abs on full display.

As though to prove him correct, Sigrid looked him up and down hungrily and gave out what might have been a purr. “You know what they say. Less is more.”

“As you wish.” He grinned, before shucking his shirt off completely and throwing it to the side of the room. It caught slightly on his elbow and he’d had to flap it around a bit more than a professional would, but the way Sigrid bit at her lip as she took him in was enough.

“You know only you could simultaneously look like a Greek God and an Adorable Doofus,” she mused, slipping two fingers back between her folds as she did so. She didn’t move them hard or fast enough to come, but just enough to keep her burning arousal going.

“I’ll guess I’ll just have to take that as a compliment,” he said casually, “Although please hold back all comments until the end of the show.”

He slowly ran his hands across his chest, coming to rest just above the waistband of his jeans, popping the button open. He gave Sigrid a knowing smirk as she inadvertently leant forward to get a better look. He shuffled them past his hips and down to his ankles, maintaining eye contact as he did so. He carefully stepped out of them and dramatically kicked them to the side, where they thumped against the wardrobe before sliding limply to the floor. 

Okay, so, maybe he was still a bit of a doofus, but he was trying and it seemed that the fewer clothes he wore the less Sigrid seemed to care about his overall technique.

His cock had softened slightly since he begun his improvised routine for her. He began to rub himself through his boxer-briefs to get back to that blissful strain of before. His breathing became naturally heavier as he continued to maintain eye contact with Sigrid, watching as the blue of her eyes began to fade into black.

“Would you like a closer look?” he grinned, taking a step forward, timing his move perfectly. He was less than an arm's width away now, his crotch perfectly positioned at mouth height. She gently reached out to touch him but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Fíli lifted her chin up so she was looking into his eyes once more, his intense gaze causing her to gulp. He gently ran a finger across her lips and her body seemed to shiver at the touch.

“One last thing to go before any of that, don’t you think?” he said huskily, his eyes glinting with promise.

Words failed Sigrid as she nodded her response. This was meant to be her power play but she honestly could not give two flying fucks right about now, so long as she got what she wanted.

With a smirk, Fíli’s hands travelled down from shoulder to hip pausing there oh so slightly as he took a step backwards to give Sigrid a better view of his final move. He slowly pushed his hands further down his thighs, grazing the top of his waistline and teasing a hint of a hipbone. He finally took them off but left Sigrid no time to admire the view before he raised one foot up, then the other, tugging his socks off in one quick motion. He spun then around his head a couple of times in rhythm with the swing of his hips and flung them off into some distant corner of a room before sinking to his knees and pulling a ‘ta-da!’ pose, the movement accented by his merrily bobbing cock.

There was complete silence.

A burst of laughter finally filled the air as Sigrid fell backwards shaking in mirth. Fíli grinned to himself in satisfaction as she rolled about on the bed, clutching her sides with tear filled eyes.

“Are you entertained?” he asked, in his best gladiator impression. Sigrid could only put a thumb up in the air as she continued to laugh harder than ever. “Excellent,” he said, clambering onto the mattress and pinning her arms above her head as he straddled her. “Do I get my reward then?”

“Definitely.” She continued to laugh, putting up a token fight against her restraint. “Condoms and lube in the drawer—Or- _ orr _ that’s cool too yeah.” She stuttered as he let go of her arms and shuffled down the bed. He tugged her knickers off of her and threw them away before spreading her legs wider.

“Great, because I haven’t eaten in a long time, and you have been looking,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her thigh, “particularly delicious.” He let out a tiny hum at how wet she already was, not just from watching his ridiculous strip show but also from her earlier finger-fucking. That image came roaring back into his head and he let out another small groan. Oh this was going to be good.

He gently caressed her other thigh and Sigrid’s eyes fluttered shut as her own hands came to rest in his hair. His beard scratched lightly against her, and she felt herself begin to come apart. She was certain she was the one meant to be in control right now but at the first brush of his lips against her clit she quite forgot about it all. 

There were very few things in life Fíli enjoyed more than giving head. Hockey was up there of course, sticky toffee pudding too, but oral was definitely in the top five. He loved being able to taste just what he was doing to his partner no matter their genitals. It wasn’t always the most pleasant of flavours, far from it, but it was  _ them _ and it was  _ sex _ and it was everything he needed in life. It was a physical point of contact where he was able to pick someone apart piece by piece. With usual hook-ups you couldn’t do that, barriers getting in the way by means of safety. However Sigrid and he had full bills of health which meant getting to enjoy the finer things in life.

He licked a long stripe against her, just gently brushing the tip of her clit and down again, travelling back up in a swirling pattern that had Sigrid’s pulling him harder against her. His grip tightened around her thighs as he grazed his teeth against her. She let out a light moan and so he put a bit more pressure on his next bite. She made a noise he couldn’t distinguish between pleasure or pain.

“You okay?” he asked, leaning up on his elbows to get a better look at her. Her eyes were still closed and she had a look of frustration about her.

“Yeah,” she panted. “Yeah I’m cool, just, not sure where I stand on teeth just yet.”

“Too much?” he checked and she gave an uncertain nod. “What about fingers, that okay?” she gave a far more frantic nod and Fíli slowly circled a finger against her entrance, carefully pushing it inside of her and pulling out again. “Just let me know what works and what doesn’t, alright?” he said, placing a gentle kiss to the top of the mound, almost innocently. Sigrid nodded again and her hips instinctively bucked up as his thumb brushed against her once more. He bent his mouth down to her again and continued where he’d left off.

“Oh fuck that works that, definitely, definitely works.” She cried, feeling her toes start to curl. There was more force to what he was doing this time, no teeth but a relentless sucking and licking that had her begging for more. His tongue felt thick and heavy against her as he lapped at her clit, his groans of delicious pleasure audible even under the wet sounds of his mouth on her sex.

“Holy shit you’re good at this.” She breathed, feeling ready to fall apart at any second. He didn’t reply though, just roughly pushed his fingers inside her one last time and giving a long, hard suck against her painfully raw clit.

She felt herself clenching up around him as a shout of ecstasy roared through her body like thunder. The world felt so alive as she threw her head back against the pillows, her jaw unhinged in a final silent cry as Fíli slowed his motions down until he was barely even nuzzling her. 

He sat up straight again, admiring his handiwork. She was a complete mess against the bedding. Stands of hair were stuck to her sweat ridden face and a few in her panting mouth, her whole body was flushed red with pounding blood. Her breathing was fast and shallow, her breasts rising and falling in what really was a joy to watch. The phrase ‘job well done’ sprung to mind as he thoughtfully rubbed a thumb against his erection, casually pulling a few short damp hairs from his own mouth.

Sigrid opened an eye and looked up at him with a whine. He had no right to be doing that right now, showing himself off to her when she still felt so over sensitised from what had to be the best oral she’d ever received. She was feeling quite hard done by though. Fingers were excellent but they weren't quite the same as a warm hard cock. But at the same time the idea of being touched again was almost too painful at this point, leaving her in an incredibly frustrating scenario.

Fíli let out a small chuckle at her pout as a small drip of pre-come fell to her belly. Sigrid gave another whine and began to shuffle up on the bed. Fíli put a free hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down on the bed to stop her from moving.

“No.” he ordered, “I want you like this. Trapped between my thighs, unable to move whilst I jerk off onto you.” The idea itself caused him to let out an untethered moan. Sigrid’s eyes flitted back up to his and a curious smile spread across her face.

“Mr McBuri, I do believe it was  _ I _ who won this round of our little bet, not you.”

“Quite frankly, Ms Bowman, I don’t give a damn.” He laughed, continuing to pull at himself in hard and fast strokes.

“You can’t go back on the terms now though,” she continued, pushing herself up into a seated position. “We made an arrangement at the start. When I win, you have to do as I say.”

Fíli stopped for a second and waited to see where this train of thought was going.

“I had all these ideas you see,” Sigrid grinned, kneeling up so they were face to face, “and now you’ve gone and ruined it through your damn talented mouth making me all sensitive and sore.” She gently kissed him and let out a startled gasp at the stark taste of herself still lingering on his lips. She felt his hand speed up between them and grabbed a hold of his wrist to stop him for a second. She wanted his attention on her and nothing else.

“For one you see this bra I’m still, somehow, wearing?” Fíli nodded, trying to take a hint and reach a hand round to undo it but finding no clasp. “Exactly.” She purred. “It unclips from the front to give better access, as they say. After the problems with the sports bra I thought I would make things easier on you.”

Fíli gulped slightly, memories of that first night together intermingling with the very real sensations of right now. Sigrid’s eyes were still dark and she was clearly not yet done with him.

“I thought you could take it off of me, and suck at my nipples just like you did back then, you remember I’m sure?”

Fíli nodded. He certainly did and when he looked down now he could just about see one poking out through the lace and he let out another shiver. “And then you see,” she pressed, releasing his wrist now and allowing him to get back to the business at hand, “those panties of mine were part of the same idea. After that skort, I thought how great it would be if there was no need for something that might stop you from being able to touch me. Although you still saw to those didn’t you?”

It wasn’t even as if she was saying anything particularly erotic, but the images she was weaving in his mind as a potential he had lost out on were killing him. He felt Sigrid’s hands start to stroke down his arse and he let out a groan as her fingers slipped to just gently cup his balls.

“Can we agree that I am more than back in control now then?” she smirked, turning his face to hers. Fíli gave a small grunt of assertion, his wrist still furiously working at himself. He couldn’t understand what was taking so long, but at the same time wanted to keep the sensation of being so continuously on edge for as long as possible. He felt thick and heavy in his hands, his pre-come not quite enough lubrication to keep him going as he licked at his palm to try and remove some of the friction at least. 

Sigrid watched him hungrily. “You know,” she whispered “there is lube available if you’d only have asked.”

“Can I have--”

“Nope.” She said, smacking her lips together. “You’re on your own this time.” She leant back against the bed, unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the side. She watched him with a kind of vague interest as she lightly fingered a pert nipple, looking for the entire world like a painting of Aphrodite with her long blonde hair falling about behind her.

Fíli ground his teeth together as he tried chasing a release that didn’t seem to want to come. “You are a horrible, cruel hearted person Sigrid Bowman.”

He felt as though everything he was made up of was shaking inside of him, each stroke moving them faster and faster. It was dizzying and torturous but fuck if it wasn’t also the best feeling in the world. Sigrid continued to watch him struggling with himself and made no sign of coming to his aid. She ran her hand thoughtfully over her mound as she continued to rub at her breast in controlled circles. Fíli felt sweat drip across his forehead, completely in awe at the sight before him. He felt stuck though, as if something was physically holding him back but if he didn’t come soon he thought he would go mad from it.

“Alright then.” She sighed, as though taking pity on him. She casually reached out to the bedside table for a couple of tissues to give to him. Her hand drifted over his bare thigh. “You can come now if you like.”

Fíli hadn’t even realised he’d been waiting for permission. Her words were like a start gun and he felt his whole body tense up. He threw his head back, letting out a guttural groan as he finally came. Everything that had been whirling and spinning came to a skidding halt, crashing back into place as the world came slowly back to rights. It felt glorious, this sudden peaceful quiet after so much beautiful chaos. He bowed his head against hers, panting heavily, her tissue still clutched in his hand. Sigrid made a triumphantly smug sound as she let him slip back down against her body.

Once he’d got his breathing back to rights he reached over her and chucked the disgusting tissue into the bin by the bed. “Tomorrow,” he said looking back up at her, “we fuck. Properly.”

“Agreed,” smiled Sigrid and let him flop back down against her chest. She ran a casual hand through his hair and let out a contented sigh. Éowyn would be back from her mission to ‘Reclaim Canada’ soon enough, but for now they could just relax and relish in the comfort of another’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, no game on Saturday for me but I'm playing on Sunday and AO3 User Flandersmare is here waatching me post "like a creeper" (her words not mine) 
> 
> If you like Fígrid then go check out her fics ^^
> 
> Anyway, off to go laugh at Adam Hills, the Australian Comedian. 
> 
> BTW -- this is the movie scene Fíli is thinking of during the strip scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3yLoag0O-g


	6. Hockey is a game of two 35 minute halves, sometimes split into 4 fifteen minute quarters during tournaments.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was just deciding against a ‘Draw me like one of your French girls’ pose when Sigrid came back into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm away Friday - Sunday at Thought Bubble, so I'm uploading this chapter hella early. I hope you enjoy it ^___^

“ _ So _ ,” sang Éowyn as she and Sigrid gathered their kit to go down to the training ground “ _ you _ looked like you slept well last night.”

“ _ Yes _ I did.” Sigrid sang back, “ _ You _ didn't get back till late though, you sure you got enough rest?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly get a lot of  _ sleep _ but it was certainly one hell of a warm up.” She winked and the two girls burst into a fit of giggles.

“Gosh, you’d think we’d be more mature than this,” scoffed Sigrid as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

“We’re hockey players. Maturity is a matter of opinion,” smiled Éowyn, clapping her on the shoulder. She paused for a second though, her hand lingering there as she examined her friend carefully. “You’re alright though, aren’t you?”

“How’d you mean?” Sigrid asked, frowning.

“You and this guy, you know what you’re doing yeah?”

“Éowyn, are you about to try and give me sex tips? Because trust me when I say, I  _ really _ don’t need any.”

“That’s not what I meant.” she sighed, sounding more exasperated than Sigrid thought possible. “I mean, are you alright with being with this person in this way. You’ve not exactly ever been one for casual relationships.”

“And you are?” she shot back, feeling suddenly defensive.

“Not when we’re at home, no,” began Éowyn carefully, “but I do know what I’m getting into  _ here _ . This isn’t my first tournament relationship.” She paused for a moment, considering her next words. “I will admit that Mr. Canada is definitely better than Mr. Germany and Miss New Zealand  _ combined _ , but I also know that this is not going to last. It’s a two week romance and just, oh Sig I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I know what I’m doing ‘Wyn. I promise you, him and me are on the same page. There’s nothing to worry about,” said Sigrid, half exasperated by her friend’s assumptions and half pleased to hear she cared enough to make them.

“I know Sig. I know. I just wanted to check is all.” Éowyn pressed a fond kiss to the side of her head, effectively ending the conversation. “Come on, let’s get going before Háma gets a chance to make us do laps.”

“She always makes us do laps. Laps are her thing,” sighed Sigrid, grabbing her phone before she left. She sent off a quick text, Éowyn catching only a glimpse of the message before it went. It was to someone called ‘Lion-Boy’, wishing them good luck for their upcoming event. Nothing suspicious really, but the three kisses at the end gave Éowyn pause for concern. She let out a another sigh as she shut the door behind her and Sigrid. She couldn’t help but feel that this was all going to end in tears, and if it did she would just have to hope it held off until the final. She didn’t think the team could survive another round of Sigrid Heartbreak.

~*~

The horn went and Fíli heaved a sigh before grabbing Finn by the shoulder for a quick hug. They’d got two points on the table; no matter what happened they’d avoided the dreaded  _ nil-point _ . Two games in with a draw and a loss was perfectly fine. If anything it only meant that they were due for a win! Or so he was trying to convince himself. Dwalin was very much of the same mind.

“You’re not out for the count yet Lads, you proved that today. Yes we’ve got a lot to work on but we can talk about that tomorrow morning. Good job everyone, see you all at training tomorrow. Make sure to get some rest tonight, you’ve all earned it.”

Fíli gave a small cough as he tried to shake out the image of exactly what his sleeping plans for tonight involved.

“You coming to dinner Fí?” asked Noenid, their captain, hesitating at the door. Fíli was hanging back again, hoping to sneak out without his team noticing. He was feeling guilty for not spending time with them but he also knew he needed space if he wanted to maintain his own sanity. He had to take a second to clear his head and come back down again. He was well aware how much he over-thought things and how much of a negative impact that had on the squad. In Sigrid he’d found himself a way to break that down and he was going to cling to it for as long as he was allowed to.

“Na, sorry Noah. Promised someone else I’d eat with them.”

“Alright then…” said Noenid with a shrewd look. “See you later on then?”

“Sure thing.” He smiled, hoisting his kit bag onto his back and waiting by the doorway to let Noenid go through first. He looked Fíli carefully up and down, still trying to suss him out.

“You go first mate. I want to talk to Hazza, but him and the other Kiwis aren’t out yet.”

Fíli gave a half hearted shrug and wished him good night. Noenid carefully watched his midfielder walk casually down the corridor until he reached the end and seemed to break into a jog, quickly disappearing round the corner and out of sight. Noenid knew there was more going on than met the eye, but so long as it stopped Fíli from having one of his regular self-targeted panic attacks, then it couldn’t be a bad thing. Right?

He sighed as he thought about what the team were up against in the upcoming games. If neither GB Team won a medal, then they would have to kiss that Tokyo funding goodbye. The GB Olympic Committee needed to see a return on their money, preferably in the form of gold and silver. Team sports weren’t always considered the best investment, why spend money on 30 players who could only win one medal between them, when you could spend the same amount of one cyclist and get 4 golds out of it?

Noenid gave out a small snort of laughter. Maybe he could do with some sort of stress relief.  He wondered vaguely if Boromir, the Aussie Captain, was seeing anyone at the moment. It was like they said: keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.

~*~

Fíli skidded to a stop outside Sigrid’s room, pulled out the card key and frantically shoved the door open, no longer worrying about matters of politeness. He was determined not to be late this time and miss out on all the fun.

However as he looked about, he couldn’t see anybody there at all. He did a double take, checking that he had the right room and hadn’t just barged into someone else’s. It was hard to tell really, every single person here had an identical kit bag, an identical tracksuit, an identical bed sheet and even the hockey stick standing up in the corner wasn't a promise of anything either, especially since most players kept spares in case one got damaged during training. There was an iPad on the bedside table though, the lock screen flashing up a photo from Sigrid’s fathers’ wedding two years back – her family all covered in icing and making stupid facial expressions at the camera.

He heaved a sigh of relief. Okay, so he’d not just run into someone else’s room for no good reason. He was in the right place, at the right time, but where was the right person? He spotted that the bathroom door was slightly ajar and nervously made his way towards it.

“Er, Sigrid.” He knocked carefully. “That you?”

No response came but as he cocked his ear to the door he thought he could make out a vague tuneless humming. Occasionally phrases like ‘ _ shake it off _ ’ and ‘ _ haters gonna hate _ ’ were muttered as someone moved about the room. It might not be Sigrid, it could be Éowyn; he didn’t know the girl that well beyond the times they’d met up at the GB Camp. However, considering Sigrid had said she’d ‘booked’ the room for next three hours, he figured he’d be okay to make his way in.

The sight that greeted him was so completely adorable he couldn’t help but lean against the doorway to admire it in all its beauty. It looked like a scene from the sort of cheesy rom-com he definitely never actually watched, and totally never ever cried at.

Sigrid had one towel wrapped around her chest and another around her head. In one hand she had a razor and in the other she was turning up the music on her iPod. She didn’t seem to take any notice of him at first, focused as she was on scraping away hair he couldn’t even see. That leg apparently finished, she stroked along it with a satisfied smile (mirrored by Fíli’s own at just how advantageous this angle was) and put it down to start on the next. Her eyes darted up to mirror and met with his, causing her to freeze. Fíli just gave her a tiny wave.

Sigrid refused to turn around to look at him as she carefully buried her head into her arms in an attempt to pretend that none of this was actually happening. However the facts of the situation were very hard to ignore, especially when they were broad enough to fill a doorway and had a smile so endearing it made kittens jealous.

She slowly pulled out her headphones, the echo-y shouts of Taylor Swift loud enough for all to hear.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked.

“About a minute judging by the lyrics,” he said, his smile growing wider as he took in her embarrassment. She stepped forward and leant her head against his shoulder as she let out a pained noise. He gently patted her on the back.

“There, there Sigrid. Your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone  _ we don’t know _ that you listen to Taylor Swift in the shower.”

Sigrid raised her head from his shoulder and glared at him.

“Okay, okay!” he backed down “Nobody. I’ll tell  _ nobody _ at all. However I will find every opportunity to use this against you.”

“What are you even doing here already!?” asked Sigrid in a high-pitched whine. “I thought you wouldn’t be here for another half an hour! It took you over an hour to get here last time.”

“Yes, and I was duly punished for it and told to run here straight from my next match,” he replied.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” she tried again, already knowing the answer and feeling even more ashamed when he confirmed that he  _ did  _ knock, she was just too far into ‘Shower Karaoke Mode’ to take notice. “I wanted to get everything ready for when you arrived.” She complained, feeling like she was letting down the whole operation.

“What kind of things?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, eyeing her up and down.

“You know, all of this!” She made a vague gesture to her body. “I was going to put on winged eyeliner and everything.”

“Sigrid, you don’t have to do any of that. You know I think you’re drop dead gorgeous without any of it,” he said, putting his arms around her waist.

“Yes, I know. But I’d still like to get it done it for  _ me _ .” She asserted, prying his hands away. “So go back in the bedroom and wait there. Okay?” She began to push him out the room ignoring his false complaints. Even if she didn’t have any make-up on, the idea of having sex with one beautifully silken smooth leg and one dark hairy leg was not something she wanted to contemplate. One or the other was fine, both would be a major no in her book.

She finished up as quickly as possible, very much aware that the longer she left Fíli sitting on the bed the more awkward this was going to get.

“Everything we need is in the top drawer by the way!” she shouted as she searched around for her make-up bag. Damn it, she’d been organised and everything. Why couldn’t he maintain his late streak? How was she meant to time herself around someone who couldn’t be relied upon to be unreliable?

There was the sound of drawers being opened and shut, then a cry of  “Got them!” followed by more awkward silence. Sigrid stared at the mess of make-up in her bag and decided to forgo any serious contouring and settle on just the basics. She began to apply everything at a speed that would make businesswomen in taxis applaud.

“Is there anything else I could do or…?” came another shout and Sigrid made an exasperated face in the mirror.

“No, just make yourself comfortable, I’m almost done.” She called back, turning her head from side to side and deciding that her eyeliner was even enough for the task at hand. She dug about the bag again, picking up and discarding various lipsticks until she found the one she wanted and made her way into the room.

Fíli had been struggling to figure out what comfortable looked like. No socks or shoes had seemed about right, but anything less seemed too forward of him. Sitting with his hands in his lap was far too school-boy, but leaning with them behind him maybe made him look too impatient? He thought about lying in his front or his back but that felt even more ridiculous. He was just deciding against a ‘Draw me like one of your French girls’ pose when Sigrid came back into the room and almost made him topple off the single bed entirely.

She looked incredible, with fierce, winged eyes and lips the colour of blood. She was wearing a pair of matching red high heels but nothing else. A part of his brain was telling him that he should really look at all the other amazing parts of her body on full display to him, but all he could do was stare open mouthed at her face and the devilish smile plastered on it.

“Worth the wait?” she asked, resting her hand on her hip.

“Definitely,” said Fíli, his mouth feeling very dry.

“Good,” she said, stalking towards him. He shifted himself so he was sat on the edge of the bed with his legs apart and she came to settle her arms around his shoulders. She was so much more impossibly tall in those heels, making him feel smaller by the second. “Shall we get to work then?” she asked and Fíli nodded his approval. 

He reached up to grab her by the waist and with a moment of courage fell back onto the bed, dragging her with him. Her heeled foot dug into calf on the way down but his grunt of pain was drowned out by her squeal of delight. They almost fell completely off the other side but they stopped themselves just in time. The beds had clearly been bought with just sleeping in mind, which was ridiculous considering the number of condoms they’d supplied each room with.

They took an awkward moment to reposition themselves, Sigrid taking off her shoes and dropping them to the side as Fíli did the same of his T-shirt and shorts. Better prepared now, Sigrid relaxed on her back and made a ‘come on then’ motion at Fíli. He took a moment to further admire the sight before him.

“You really do look beautiful.” He smiled, bending down to stroke hair away from her face. “Really ridiculously beautiful.”

“Well you’re not so bad yourself,” said Sigrid, reaching up to cup his face. “I’m sure we must make quite the pair.”

“I’m sure we do indeed.” He agreed with a chuckle, bending down to claim her mouth in a sweet kiss. 

Everything was slower than it had been before. There was none of the desperate franticness of their previous encounters. No build up of desire, no desperation or panic making them reach for orgasm as fast as possible. They were able to take their time, stop and start, as they wanted. There was space to simply breathe one another in. Soft hands ghosted over delicate skin and fingers wove through coarse hair. Sigrid felt as if Fíli was trying to discover every inch of skin with his hands, with his mouth, with his whole being; his lightest of touches making her melt into the mattress.

Fíli felt very much the same. Sigrid was kissing him with what felt like her whole body, arching up against him or else pulling him down towards her. Her mouth was soft and wet as she gasped into him, gently taking his lips between hers for long slow kisses that made him tingle all over. Her tongue slipped against his, taking the time to enjoy this basic sensation and let themselves sink into an endless moment where the world was made of just the two of them.

There was nothing beyond the bed they lay in. No legacies or losses, no pressure or expectation. Nothing at all to speak of, except each other.

Sigrid moved her mouth to press a line of kisses against his neck, each one leaving a red print of her lips, as though she were staking a claim to him. Property of Sigrid Bowman, no trespasses allowed. Fíli could not mind in the slightest as he shifted his head to grant her further access down his body.

He moved his hand against her breast, moulding his palm against it in slow smooth circles. Sigrid felt a low tingle between her thighs, and pressed her body up against his as he pinched at her nipple, careful and deliberate. Each move was thought out and planned through a careful study of what the other liked and needed. They were becoming able to sense the wants of the other through body language alone, yet there was still no shame in them whispering in the others ear to request a press of squeeze, for Sigrid to cup at Fíli’s buttocks whilst she kissed him, or for him to rub his thigh between hers as he sucked at her breasts.

Their arousal seemed to gently simmer between them, Fíli’s hard cock and Sigrid’s damp thighs almost unimportant in the grand scheme as it continued to boil up and up until it was too big an itch to ignore, that desire to fill and be filled.

Sigrid tugged at his underwear, dragging it half way down his thighs and letting him do the rest whilst still trying her best to continue desperately kissing him. Licks turned to bites and quiet hums to needy moans as everything began to speed up again. Fíli reached over to grab at the box of condoms and bottle of lube where he’d left them on the cabinet and Sigrid let out a wanton moan as his cock pressed up against her. His eyes shut tight at the feeling, the gentle brush of flesh against flesh suddenly too much of an overwhelming sensation.

He quickly rolled the condom on watching hungrily as Sigrid began to impatiently rub at herself.

“Fuck you’re hot,” he breathed, only just loud enough for her to hear.

He moved back down her body, trapping her to the bed again and gently angled himself to slide himself between her folds. He didn’t press into her just yet, simply dragging himself up against her vulva as she continued to frantically groan into his mouth unable to do much else between all the sensations.

“Fíli please, please Fíli!” she begged as she felt the tip of his prick play across her clit. She was already gloriously wet, his fingers making obscene noises as he began to gently work them inside of her.

“Please what?” he asked.

“More. I need more,” she whimpered, clawing at his shoulders as she writhed on the bed.

“Like this?” he said, pressing a finger lightly against her walls. Sigrid felt as if the world was getting narrower and narrower by the second.

“Please Fíli.” She begged again, “I want to feel you in me already. I need you to fill me Fíli. Please!”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” He smiled, removing his fingers, the sound of which alone was enough to make his cock twitch impatiently. He quickly used the lube left on his hand to cover himself and then slowly pushed inside of her. They took a second to let themselves bask in the sensation. Fíli gently rested his forehead against hers, the pair of them panting heavily.

Their fingers intertwined on the bed, reaching out to one another, searching for a life line amidst all that was about to happen.

They began to gently rock their bodies together, a steady and certain rhythm that had them both gasping for air. Sigrid grabbed a hold of Fíli and pulled him harder and harder against her, fingernails digging into his skin and leaving tiny scratches. She threw her head back against the pillow as she shouted his name over and over again, hearing it intermingled with her own as the sounds all blurred together. Neither of them knew where one began and the other ended.

Their mouths came together together for a final frantic kiss made of tongues and heat and passion. That final connection, the sense of being unbroken and joined, sent them tumbling over the edge and they came together with matching groans. It felt like it would go on forever, crashing down around them like an eternal wave that pulled them away from the anchor of the world. Fíli and Sigrid clung tightly together through it all.

The wave eventually drew away, leaving them sweat soaked and panting for air. They held on though, riding it through as they pressed their foreheads together.  The sensation finally washed away, leaving nothing but their joint scent wrapped around them like a blanket. Fíli placed a small kiss to Sigrid’s lips before pulling out of her and rolling to his side. He took a moment to gather his breath, sitting on the side of the bed as he did so. He stroked small absent-minded circles against Sigrid’s thigh as she let out a small shiver at the sensation.

He looked at her and gave an apologetic smile, unable to give her more of what he thought she desired. However she felt as exhausted as he, and gave a shake of the head. He let out breathy laugh which was mirrored by her own. He eventually heaved himself to his feet and padded into the bathroom to sort everything out, Sigrid going in after he was done.

They sunk back into bed together, still unaware that there was a world out there that might be waiting for them. Sigrid reached out and tugged Fíli towards her, resting his head on her shoulder and tangling their legs together. He was solid and warm, his body helping to bring her back down to earth. Fíli leant back into her embrace, nuzzling his head against her chin, feeling safe and secure in her arms. They were exactly what the other needed, even more so than they knew.

~*~

The smell of sex is all well and good when you’re the person having it, but coming back to your shared room and being hit in the face with it is another thing entirely. When Sigrid had first proposed a mutual understanding of room bookings, Éowyn had insisted upon open windows and air freshener. She was happy enough to be sexiled, so long as she could get the room to herself later on as well without anything getting in the way. That had apparently been all forgotten about in favor of a nap. Éowyn sighed as she flicked on the light switch, intent on giving her best mate a quick telling off before going to find somewhere else to sleep. Or not sleep, as the case may be.

She looked over at the bed, expecting to see Sigrid curled up on her side as usual, the blanket kicked aside, bare legs on full display. Whilst the picture was not exactly  _ dissimilar  _ it certainly wasn’t what Éowyn had been expecting. Tucked up beneath her was a very naked, very asleep, very Bad Idea by the name of Fíli McBuri. 

Éowyn groaned and rested her head against the wall. When Sigrid had said she was hooking up with another athlete, she’d assumed she meant someone from another discipline. Something completely unrelated like Swimming or Judo or Table Tennis, even! Not her fellow hockey player. Not so soon after Lothíriel and the disaster that had turned out to be. Éowyn felt obliged to shake them both awake and tell them just exactly how stupid they were being. Then Fíli made a slight disgruntled moan and Sigrid automatically pulled him closer to her. She nuzzled his neck until he heaved a contented sigh and went back to sleep.

Éowyn shook her head fondly at them. ‘Just Fuck Buddies’ her arse. She pulled her phone out of her pocket to find out what her own hockey bloke was doing right this moment. Whilst she waited for him to pick up, she casually surveyed her friend, feeling herself growing more and more sympathetic to her disastrous relationship by the second. She had to hand it to Sigrid though; he wasn’t bad looking. Though Éowyn was secretly proud to say her own guy beat him by a mile, so to speak.

“Hey Fara’,” she smiled as she turned away from the pair. “My roommate has essentially locked me out for the night. You free at all to provide a poor Brit a place to sleep? You are? Excellent. Be over there soon.”

She sauntered off to the camp next door, only kidding herself as well, if she really believed her own arrangement was anything as straightforward as another tournament romance.  


	7. It is illegal to intentionally play the ball into another player.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli was stood stock still in the middle of the shower, looking as though he’d never known what panic was until this moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this is late, I know. But hey-- you got the last update really early?

Fíli was woken up by an alarm that was not his own. He knew this because his alarm beeped whilst this one screamed. He did not like screaming alarms. Kíli had one like that but that was only because he was impossible to wake up otherwise, but Fíli was relatively certain that this wasn’t his brother’s room.

He tried to process what else was going on around him, but couldn’t do _fuck all_ thanks to that bloody noise penetrating into his skull. He let out a groan of agony and reached out to pat about for something electronic to swipe at. He thought he’d only found bed sheets and thin air, but clearly something had worked as the stupid thing finally shut itself off.

That was better.

He let out a deep breath and tried to fall back to sleep. However he was mostly awake now which was incredibly unfair considering he didn’t have a match today. He just wanted to relax back into the warmth of whatever it was that was wrapped up around him, and bathe in its soft, gentle scent. The thing let out a contented hum as it snuggled into his shoulder.

If it was snuggling him than it couldn’t be a _thing_. It had to be some sort of animal, most likely a person.

“I think my arms gone dead,” they muttered into his shoulder. “Can you move?”

“Sure.” He yawned lifting himself up slightly and feeling an arm slide out from beneath him. There was a muttered thank you and then silence again whilst they both processed what was happening.

“What are you doing here!” cried Sigrid first, suddenly feeling so awake she could have gone and joined in with the triathlon. She’d probably be in shot for a medal. “We’re not meant to do this!” She waved a hand between them. 

“You’re the one who didn’t kick me out. Don’t blame it on me, you fell asleep too.” he grumbled, pulling the blanket tighter around him. He for one was quite willing to go back to sleep.

“Fuck,” hissed Sigrid, going to run a hand through her hair, only to find it was still attached to a dead arm. She gave out a grunt and began to try and massage it back into life. “This is not meant to happen Fíli. We agreed!”

“I know I know,” he sighed, sitting up in bed rather uncomfortably. “But it was an accident. We just fell asleep, it happens sometime. No harm done, right?”

“Fuck,” repeated Sigrid, glancing to Éowyn’s empty bed. It clearly hadn’t been slept in but that did not mean she hadn’t been here. She glanced around for any sign and finally looked down to the phone in her hand. She must have not bothered to put it back down when it went off earlier. There was a text from Éowyn on there, saying that she would be spending the night at Canada’s and that Sigrid was to ‘not wait up’. Sigrid heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down onto the bed. Thank Goodness for attractive hockey players! She looked across at Fíli and mentally corrected that to attractive _foreign_ hockey players.

“Sigrid, are you alright?” he asked tentatively. “Look, I’m sorry I should have just gone home, I was really tired and you were tired and that was all rather...” he searched around for the correct word to describe what had happened last night and couldn’t seem to find one fantastical enough. Sigrid nodded in agreement. No, he was right; this wasn’t his fault anymore than it was hers. And Éowyn probably didn’t know, or if she did she didn’t _say_ anything, so it seemed that there really had been no harm done.

“Just get out of here before Éowyn shows up, alright?” she said, clambering out of bed. “Haven’t you got a briefing to get to as well?” she frowned as Fíli seemed reluctant to move from his spot.

“Yeah, just give me a minute to sort some stuff out.” he gave a vague, non-committal gesture

“What stuff? Just sort it out when you get back to your own room. I don’t know when Éowyn’ll be back, and you and I both said we didn’t want anyone knowing about us, I mean--” She shook her head to correct herself. “--this. This whole… thing; with you and me.”

“Yeah I know but if I could just—hey no fair!” he shrieked as she grabbed the sheet and yanked it away from him.

She didn’t know what his problem was. She’d woken up next to him naked, what was he being so pretentious over? His look of annoyance was wasted on her as she took in his erection.

“Oh for fucks sake!” cried Sigrid, in exasperation “ _Really_ Fíli? We just woke up.”

“It’s just morning wood. Don’t take it personally.” he grumbled, swinging his legs off of the bed now and heading towards the bathroom. “Before you finish that thought Sig, I refuse to go out into public like this.”

“What are--”

“I’m going to take a piss, and deal with this; and not necessarily in that order.”

“Fine,” sighed Sigrid, accepting that this was really their only option right now. “Just be quick.”

“You didn’t say that last night.” he smirked, closing the door behind him.

“The blue towels are mine, green are Éowyn’s.” she called back, a lot more fondly this time.

Sigrid waited for the sound of piss against china to die down and be replaced by the click and hiss of shower stuttering into life, before throwing herself back face first onto the bed. She really was over reacting. She knew that, but it had been awhile since she’d woken up with a man beside her. She’d put all that plumbing to the back of her mind, so to speak. It just hadn’t seemed as important as trying to work out exactly whose blood that was on the sheets.

But it wasn’t meant to go like this at all! Fuck Buddies were meant to shag and say goodbye and not wake up spooning in the early morning. Some mild spooning straight after was probably fine, but waking up together was something decidedly more couple-y. Or else more like a One-Night-Stand, which Sigrid didn’t feel comfortable with either! She didn’t want Fíli to feel like she was saying goodbye and kicking him out, she really _really_ liked him and wanted to continue with their relationship; just… not like this. She didn’t want a boyfriend. She was not ready to get back into the chaos of dating all over again and Fíli was…. Fíli was a friend and that was it. So if she knew all of that was all there was to them, then why was she so frustrated right now?

“Sigrid you better be awake and decent when I open this door.”

Oh, yeah. Éowyn. That was why.

Sigrid’s eyes darted about the room taking in everything she could and deciding her quickest cause of action. She jumped up and kicked Fíli’s abandoned clothes under the bed “I was just going to hop in the shower actually!” she cried. “So no I’m not actually decent!”

“Too late.” Smiled Éowyn, who’d come inside anyway. She looked like she’d been awake a lot longer than Sigrid had. Her hair was still wet from showering and there was a small red mark at the base of her neck that was certainly not from any sporting injury Sigrid knew of.

Sigrid quickly grabbed at the sheets and wrapped them around herself. Éowyn had seen her naked before, they regularly just walked around the room as such without any bother. Yet somehow the fact that her nudity was the result of sex rather than routine made her feel incredibly self-conscious.

“You best jump in the shower quick then,” continued Éowyn, seeming to not take notice of her friends predicament. “Háma wants to go over tactics before the match. She’s got footage from Argentina’s last game she wants us to check out before we begin.”

“Right. Yes,” said Sigrid absently, edging towards the bathroom door. “I’ll be five minutes, swear.”

Éowyn gave a vague nod as she began to change into her own gear, paying Sigrid no more attention as she ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

Fíli was stood stock still in the middle of the shower, looking as though he’d never known what panic was until this moment. Sigrid was at least glad to see his hard on was gone. His small, limp prick looked all together as though it was not worth all the fuss it was causing.

Fíli snapped his fingers and drew Sigrid’s gaze back up to him with a frustrated grunt. She gave him an apologetic shrug and shuffled closer, signalling to him to keep the water going.  

“What are we going to do?” he whispered. “What if she comes in here?”

“She won’t,” Sigrid said quickly. “She’s getting changed and then we’ll both be on our way out so I have to get in the shower now so she doesn’t suspect.”

“But what about me!” he spluttered. “I’m still in here!”

“Well move out and let me in. Turn the water up, it’s freezing.”

“The whole point of it being freezing was so as to avoid any more of this.” He waved frantically between them again.

“Oh show some self control,” muttered Sigrid, shoving him out of the cubicle. “Just wait your turn alright? I’ll be quick I promise.”

“Then what? I just have to wait until you’ve both left?”

Sigrid gave another small shrug and Fíli turned around on the spot before pretending to bang his head against the wall. She gave him a sympathetic smile as she turned the temperature up, filling the room with steam. Fíli turned one eye to watch as the he spied the basic form of her figure behind the fogged up glass. He licked his lips slightly and then shook his head as his thoughts caught up with him, turning his back to the shower completely.

“You really are adorable,” smiled Sigrid as she began to shampoo her hair.

“Says the girl who got so turned on just waiting for me that she had to masturbate in order to stay sane,” he rebutted. Sigrid gave a small blush at the memory, how he’d made up for his tardiness by eating her out in a way that put the term into a new light for her. She felt a tingle start up between her legs and strategically turned the temperature back down again. Fíli looked over his shoulder and gave her a triumphant smirk. They really were both in the same mess, no two ways about it.

There was silence save for the spray of the water and the bustling sounds of Éowyn next door-- which Fíli was trying his best to ignore.

“We’re still good though, yeah?” he asked at last as Sigrid finished washing the suds from her hair. “This isn’t the end, right?”

“Do you want it to be?” she replied tentatively, pulling her towel down from the rack.

“No! Of course not!” he said all in a hurry but still whispering so as Éowyn would not hear. “I just thought that you might want to…”

“No! No I don’t. I, this is great. What we have is great, I don’t want it to change at all.”

“At all?” he asked carefully and Sigrid nodded firmly. She loved things the way they were and wouldn’t change them for the world. She told him as much and felt her heart do a triple pike at the small smile he gave her. “Okay then. Nothing changes between us. So I’ll see you here after your game, yeah?”

“For sure.” She grinned, wrapping the towel around her and clambering out at last. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She placed a light kiss to his mouth before leaving.

“Good luck with the game.” Fíli whispered after her as the door shut. He waited until he was certain Éowyn and Sigrid had both left the room before getting back in the shower. He let the warm water splash across his face as he tried to relax again. He didn’t have to be anywhere for another two hours. He needed time to think, and there was no better place for that than in the shower.

Fíli caught a glimpse of himself in his reflection of the glass, looking confused and hurt and all together _not_ how a man his age, competing at the Olympics, having regular mind-blowing sex, _should_ look.

“What have you got yourself into this time, McBuri?” he asked, but before his reflection could answer, the steam rose up and covered the glass with fog.

 

~*~

 

Evolution takes place over millennia; small changes occurring down the genetic line which help species to adapt and survive to their surroundings. A bird might develop a beak specially designed to eat certain seeds. A lizard might learn to re-grow a limb. A homo sapien might skip out on the melanin in order to get a bit more vitamin D in their system. That was what Sigrid’s ancestors had decided to do, as only those with the palest of skin would be able to cope with the complete lack of sunshine found in what these days is known as The British Isles.

However, her predecessors could not have predicted that one day she would fly to Rio and spend hours and hours in the piping hot sun, producing more vitamin D in a single day than they had in their whole lives. Her skin did not know how to handle this sudden influx from the round yellow fire orb in the sky and decided that, rather than get darker to blot it out like the other members of her species were doing, it was going to punish her instead.

Dagní openly laughed as Sigrid examined her scorched shoulders, cackling about ‘white people problems’.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. There’s no need to be a dick about it.” She hissed as she touched the aching red skin. She wasn’t the only teammate to be suffering, but she certainly seemed to have the worst of it. She practically bathed in factor 50 and yet here she was; looking like, as Dagní gleefully pointed out, a giant shrimp.

“I think the doctor’s got some After Sun if you want it, but she’s busy looking at Rosie after that fall,” said Idril apologetically.

“No, no. It’s fine, it’ll wait,” sighed Sigrid. She could have done with a trip there herself. The game had been a rough one, leaving her muscles aching and covered in bruises. Argentina were a tough team and defending Silver Medallists. They’d beaten GB in the Semis in London but this time Sigrid and the girls were determined to turn things around.

The Umpires’ calls seemed rather unfair to many watching, but they were at least universally unfair. They blew them up on small offences and let larger ones slide for _both_ teams. There’d been plenty of dangerous play going on, elbows all over the place and balls flying pretty much everywhere. Many of the team spent the game flat out on the floor, including Lobelia who’d been shoved to the ground by an Argentinian with no reprimand given.

In the end GB had come out victorious, continuing their winning streak. There was no point in getting cocky though, they could celebrate their win in the changing room but after that they would need to start again from scratch. Háma always ceremoniously cleared the white board after a game and began to write up their tactics for the next one. If they were able to beat India then they would be through to the next round no questions asked. There was a confident buzz around the changing room at the prospect, not enough to push them over the edge but enough to keep them fighting.

Sigrid walked back to the village with the rest of the team, already going through a blow by blow of the game and what they could improve upon. On their way they passed a group of men’s hockey players fussing over one of their teammates.

Tauriel stopped in her tracks. “Kíli? Is that you?”

“Tauriel!” he grinned, clambering out of his seat with a slight wince. The whole team were sitting outside their flat, clearly having recently finished up their own game. One of them grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him back down onto his chair.

“What happened to you, are you alright?” Tauriel asked, coming over to sit with him.

“Oh nothing. Just had a bit of a rough game is all.” He smiled, his eyes darting down to where her hand was resting on his arm.

“He took a stick to the ribs and got carted off in a golf buggy,” said his brother with a roll of his eyes. One of the Peredhil twins (Fíli couldn’t tell the difference between them just yet) had called him up telling him his baby brother had been injured and carted off the pitch, so he’d naturally dropped everything to come and see if he was alright. He’d found the little goat sitting in the doctor’s office, chatting with his teammates about the rest of the match and seeming very confused as to why his brother had shown up at all.

“Ouch,” hissed Tauriel. “That must have hurt.”

“Ah, it’s nothing.” Kíli shrugged. “I’m a big tough hockey player, I can cope with a little bruising.”

“More than a little, I’ll say, if they pulled you off the pitch,” continued Tauriel. “Can I have a look?” she asked, indicating for him to lift his shirt up. He nodded eagerly, taking the thing off entirely and causing a few smirks amongst the other players. There was some quiet Gaelic muttering followed by a round of stifled laughter. It didn’t take a linguist to figure out that the squad was well aware of the major crush Kíli had developed on the GB Captain.

Fíli rolled his eyes again and threw Sigrid a look that told her she had been exactly right. She gave her own small huff of laughter as she watched Tauriel gently brush her fingers against Kíli’s abdomen. He gave a hiss of pain at her touch which he tried to cover up with a smile, however it just deepened Tauriel’s frown.

“You’ll be in line for best bruise of the tournament with that one,” nodded Tar. “You can see the outline of the stick if you look closely.”

The ladies all shuffled nearer to peer at it and gave their own murmurs of agreement. It was still pretty red, but over the next couple of days would bloom into a purple and brown mess. Kíli seemed to sit up a little straighter, clearly enjoying the sensation of sixteen women staring intently at his abs. They were pretty good abs it had to be said, he probably spent a fair amount of time at the gym. However Sigrid still much preferred those of his brother.

“I’ve got some Arnica back in my room,” smiled Tauriel. “It always works a treat. You’re welcome to borrow it if you like?”

“Yes please!” replied Kíli, perhaps a little too eagerly.

There was more stifled laughter from his teammates and Fíli ran an exasperated hand down his face. Sigrid couldn’t tell if Tauriel was flirting with him or just being her usual caring self. Tauriel was older than him by a fair bit, but it wasn’t as if he was _actually_ a child. Well, he was to his brother but Sigrid knew that Kíli would remain a child in Fíli’s eyes until he was at least ninety.

“I’m heading there now to get changed, you’re welcome to come back with us so I can give it to you?”

Kíli’s eyes became saucers as he gave her a frantic nod, clambering to his feet with yet another wince. He tried to hide it once more but nothing escaped Tauriel’s eyes. She tried to offer him her shoulder to help support him but it didn’t exactly work out. Tauriel was one of the tallest players in the whole tournament where as Kíli was one of the shortest.

In the end she told him to simply take her hand and squeeze it if the pain got too much for him. None of the athletes could take any painkillers for these things from fear of what it might bring up in a drugs test, but it seemed the simple concept of hand holding was enough for Kíli to forget about the pain entirely.

Both teams watched with amused expressions, as the pair walked back to the GB Apartment.

“I already gave him some Arnica,” sighed Fíli. “I had to practically pin him down to let me apply it.”

“Well you're his brother,” reasoned Elladan… or Elohir.  It was really hard to tell them apart when one of them wasn’t decked out in Goalie Kit.

“And I don’t know about you, but I would rather a beautiful woman applied cream to my skin than either of my grotty siblings,” continued the other twin, giving his brother a nudge with his shoulder.

“True and fair point,” nodded Sigrid. “Hope he’s alright though. It did look nasty.”

“Oh he’ll be fine,” sighed Dagní. “He’s just making a mountain out of a mole hill so he can get his end away.”

There was more laughing from the assembled teams.

“You okay there, Mack?” asked another of the Irish players, nodding at Sigrid, “You look burnt to a crisp.”

“I know, I know. I’m too Welsh for my own good.” She groaned, throwing Dagní another exasperated look as her friend let out a huff of unsympathetic laughter. Plenty of the Irish players were just as burnt as she was. Sigrid didn’t see why Dagní found her predicament any funnier than theirs.

(The answer was that Sigrid was Dagní’s friend and she could laugh at her if she wanted to but anyone else who dared to would be punched in the face.)

Fíli’s eyes darted down to her shoulders and let out his own hiss of sympathy. Sigrid was equal parts annoyed and thrilled to see that he was turning a delicious golden brown colour with not a red blotch in sight.

“I’ve got some After Sun in my room if you want it,” said Fíli helpfully. “It’s the kind with extra aloe vera, works a treat. You can swing by and grab it, or I’ll just bring it with me next time.”

There was what felt like a huge pause as he realised what he’d said and what he’d basically just implied for everyone. He couldn’t back track though because that would just add more suspicion, and Sigrid couldn’t tell him off because that would only double it! Even then, being rude to one another would be too out of character for them, and besides Fíli not offering someone any help would lead to a major telling off from his mother because _everything_ eventually got back to her. Heck the commentator on their games was an ex-team mate of hers!

“I, erm, thanks,” said Sigrid at last. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’d get it on you quick as you can,” pressed the same player as before. “Nasty burn that is, and you can’t be playing properly if you’ve got shoulders so raw you can’t move ‘em. Not to mention the risk of skin cancer.”

There was a general murmur of agreement as they all looked back at Sigrid expectantly. “Well, I er, guess we could go now yeah?” She glanced at her teammates who were all looking at her slightly knowingly.

“Okay then. Let’s go,” Fíli said, walking off towards their apartment with Sigrid in nervous tow.

Éowyn was about to shout something after them, but then her phone rang and shortly after she was making her _own_ excuses to leave. The team watched her go with growing amused expressions.

“So, anyone fancy coming back to mine as well?” asked Idril, her eyes scanning the leftover men.

“Don’t see why you should have to go all the way back there when I’ve got my own room right here,” grinned one of them.

“Oh I like your style!” she purred. “Lead the way, my good sir.”

“Please,” he said, taking her elegantly by the hand. “Call me Tuor.”

There were whoops and hollers from their other teammates and a definite cry of “DO IT FOR IRELAND!”

Dagní let out an exasperated huff and began to stomp off back to their apartment by herself. “If anybody needs me, I’ll be thrashing the kayakers at Foosball again.”

 

~*~

 

Sigrid had never actually been into Fíli’s room before. All their previous encounters had been in hers by way of their deal with Éowyn. They thought it best to minimise the number of people in on their agreement and anyway, Fíli had reliably informed Sigrid that he still wasn’t convinced you could trust Nori to keep your secrets when it might suit him otherwise.

Fíli purposefully walked towards his bathroom and came out a second later holding a large green bottle. He was about to hand it to her when he caught a sight of her leg as well. She’d got hit across the calf by a stick, nothing she wasn’t able to walk off, but enough to leave a pretty messy bruise. Fíli sighed and pulled a tube of cream out of his pocket.

“On the bed.” He ordered, “Top off, face down.”

Sigrid raised an eyebrow at him, “Since when do you give the orders? Anyway, won’t your roommate be back soon?”

“Since you got yourself injured just standing still. I’ll text Nori to let him know not to come up though, if you like,” he said, digging out his phone.

“No!” Sigrid replied hastily “No. What if he figures out it’s me you’re with just--” she went to scratch the back of her neck nervously and let out a hiss of pain which had Fíli practically shoving her onto the bed.

“If they all find out, they find out. Your health is more of my concern. Plus who’s to say I can’t bag myself some other beautiful, sexy blonde chick? I’m quite the catch you know.”

Sigrid mumbled her agreement as she stripped off her top and went to lay down on the bed as instructed.

Fíli knelt down beside her and at the first touch of the cool liquid on her burning skin Sigrid let out a deep, contented sigh. Fíli carefully worked it into her skin, methodically massaging it all over as gently as he could. It smelt surprisingly sweet and she felt herself sinking into the mattresses.

“Your muscles are so tense.” He chastised gently, his hands become firmer on her. “When was the last time you saw the physio?”

“Mmmm, week ago maybe?” she offered. “l don’t know. I’ve been busy.” She gave another sigh as he began working at her shoulder. “Anyway, who needs a physio when I have you? Where’d you learn to do this anyway?”

“I did go to university you know.” He chuckled. “They offered an optional module on Health Massage as part of my degree.”

“Something in Sports I’m guessing?”

Fíli laughed “Well I wasn’t going to be doing engineering now was I? I ended up doing a joint degree though, Sports Management with Teaching. Yourself?”

“Don’t laugh…” she said carefully.

“It was Sports Science, wasn’t it?” he smiled.

She buried her head back in the pillow. “I know, I know. I’m such a stereotype but I wanted to do something in health and there was no way I could do a nursing degree _and_ continue playing this level of hockey _and_ keep up with my family. It just seemed the best option…”

“Hey, I can’t talk. Sports Management, remember?”

“Yeah _and_ teaching. That must have been a lot of work.”

“Eh, I found a way to fit it all in. It wasn’t like I was needed at home anymore.” He put the cap on the bottle and reached for the tube of cream. He squeezed a small amount onto his fingers and began to gently smoothing it over the various bruises she’d received. “I guess you care about your own family quite a bit too though?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I mean, I was fifteen when Tilda was born and Mam well, you know… died.” She sniffed, shifting her head to the side to stare directly at the wall. “It’s probably pretty messed up, but she’s way more than a sister to me. I’m basically the closest she has to a mother.”

“Well at least she has two dads now,” smiled Fíli, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah. Thranduil’s fantastic. He’s made Da so happy, Tilda _adores_ him and Bain thinks the world of him too. My only complaint is that he’s posh and English but as you can tell, I’m pretty willing to let that slide.”

“Hey.” He protested, poking at her side, “I’ll have you know I am not posh.”

“Yes you are,” she snorted. “You’re not the poshest I’ll grant you, but you’re still up there.”

“Watch it now, I’m the one tending to your injuries; remember?”

“And I thank you wholeheartedly,” she said seriously, giving out another contented hum as his fingers began to work the muscles of her back.

“Well you’re more than welcome,” he said,and pressed a light kiss to her back. She gave out a low moan and then paused, twisting more onto her side so she was looking up at him properly.

“Fíli, do you mind if we you know, don’t tonight?”

Fíli blinked at her, taking a second to figure out what she meant before it finally clicked. “Oh no! Oh no of course not! I wasn’t expecting that we would, you’re burnt and bruised as it is.” He gave her self-assured smirk. “I wouldn’t want to be adding anymore to them.”

“I’m sure some of them are yours already.” She grinned, pulling him down for a quick kiss. However when she leant back on the bed she let out another yelp of pain. She really was too burnt to be dealing with this right now.

“It’s alright.” He smiled before she could apologise. “You’ve an important game coming up. You need to be well rested. Take the night off to get better and I’ll see you tomorrow. You can make it up to me then.”

“It’s a deal.” she said, giving him another light kiss before climbing off the bed and carefully pulling her shirt back on. She didn’t bother with the bra as the straps were hurting her anyway.  “Good luck and see you tomorrow!” she waved as she went out the door.

“Bye,” said Fíli quietly, watching her leave and already wishing she were back there beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we won our game on Saturday 5-1. The goal was a decent enough goal, so I'm not gonna beat myself up about it. 
> 
> And yes, the events in this game between the GB team and Argentina, and Kíli's injury are all inspired by real life events. The Ireland Team have a set of twins who are GK and Defence -- so I thought it only appropriate to have Elohir and Elladan play the part of them lol.


	8. The ball cannot be intentionally played across the backline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fingering?” he paused, licking his lips slightly. “Yeah fingering sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very Important Gif Set to get you “in the mood” 
> 
> http://morstan-after-dark.tumblr.com/post/120226651910/i-dont-care-how-many-times-ive-reblogged-this

Fíli was frantically pacing up and down Sigrid’s room, wearing a hole in the newly laid carpet.

“I mean, sure we won and that’s great but against a team like Brazil we should have done better. I mean, they’re the weakest team at the tournament. They got beat by Belgium _12-0_ . Yeah Belgium beat _us_ 4-1 but that still means we should have conceded a goal you know?”

Sigrid was sat cross-legged on the bed and despite her best attempts, still wearing her shorts and tank top. She’d tried everything to calm him down but his brain was clearly going into overdrive. “Fíli, it was from a short corner,” she said in a futile fifth attempt. “These things happen to everyone.”

“But you’re not meant to concede corners in the first place!” he repeated. “How are we meant to keep a clear score line against Australia tomorrow, if we can’t keep one against Brazil!”

“Brazil have a lot of home crowd support. You know first hand what that can do for a team.”

“Don’t remind me of 2012,” he groaned, finally sitting down on the bed next to her. “Fourth on home soil wasn’t exactly good going.”

“We only came third.” She shrugged. “That’s just one spot higher.”

“It’s still an Olympic medal.” He sighed, “What I would give to have one of those.”

“You will get one.” She said, stroking his arm gently. “Come on. You scored a hat-trick today! That deserves something special.” She slipped her hand across his lap and rested it against the inside of his thigh. “What would you like?”

“I don’t know Sigrid.” He sighed. “Maybe this isn’t the best of ideas tonight.”

“Fíli,” she said seriously. “I’m not going to force you into doing anything, but you’re over thinking and need to stop. You’re playing again tomorrow and you have to focus on that game, not the ones in the past that you can’t change. So tell me,” she repeated, rubbing gentle circles along his thigh, her fingers just lightly brushing against his cock. “What would you like?”

“I er…” He began, unsure what to do when she seemed to be offering him a blank cheque. “I don’t know. Whatever you want to do?”

“I want to hear you shout my name whilst you come,” she said into his ear, accenting her point with a gentle nip to his lobe, causing him to do a sharp intake of breath.

 “We can do anything?” he asked carefully.

“Absolutely,” she said, nuzzling at his neck before pausing. “Well, within reason.”

“Oh right. Never mind then.” He coughed, “I don’t know, a blow job or—“

“No, go on. Tell me whatever it was you were thinking before.”

“I, erm, well,” he gave another little adorable cough. “I just haven’t had any erm…”

“Keep going,” said Sigrid reassuringly. “I won’t judge.”

“Had any, err, anal in awhile. A _long_ while, actually.”

“Ah,” said Sigrid, sitting back. “Well, I mean--”

“See! I told you, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it I--”

“No no no no no!” hushed Sigrid, putting a finger to his lips. “We can sort something out I’m sure. Maybe not tonight but, there’s got to be a sex shop around here somewhere or we could order a dildo on Amazon, oh! Unless you’ve got one with you of course?” she prompted, looking surprisingly hopeful.

“Why on earth would I bring a dildo to the Olympics?”

“Because you like anal sex, and I don’t have a penis?” said Sigrid, like it really was the most obvious answer in the world.

“And be known as the athlete who got stopped at security for carrying a dildo?” he countered.

“Why would security stop you for having a dildo?”

“I don’t know!” he cried. “But what if they did!?”

“Well, I’m sure we can find something to improvise with for now if you—“

“Oh fuck no that would be _much_ worse! I’d be the athlete who had to go to hospital to get a spoon removed from his arse. I’d be Spoon Man for the rest of my life. It wouldn’t even matter if I won a five gold medals I’d _still_ be Spoon Man! Oh look, there goes Fíli McBuri! Did you hear? He shoved a spoon up his arse at the Rio Olympics!”

Sigrid was biting her lip in a terrible attempt not to laugh, or make any jokes about winning The Wooden Spoon. Fíli caught sight of her though and gave his own chuckle, shaking his head.

“I know, I know, I’m being ridiculous. But even then, it’s been so long even if we did have an actual dildo, and you were still willing, I’d probably be too sore in the morning to actually play. Sorry,” he added apologetically and Sigrid rolled her eyes.

“Typical English. Always apologising for everything. It’s no problem. Honestly.  How about just some fingering, that sound okay?”

“Fingering?” he paused, licking his lips slightly. “Yeah fingering sounds good.”

“Great,” she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead before leaping off the bed to gather supplies.

“You have done this before, right?” asked Fíli carefully, watching her rummage around in a first aid kit for a pair of plastic gloves.

“Sure.” She smiled. “I had a boyfriend back at Uni who was into it.”

“Oh. Alright then,” said Fíli, seeming a little more confident as he settled back down.

“Now,” said Sigrid diplomatically. “Before we start, is there anything you want to go over? Likes, dislikes, etc?”

 “Not really. A safety word all right though? Just in case?” he asked, looking slightly apologetic and Sigrid could just kiss him there and then.

“Of course it’s all right. Tonight is all about you; remember? What would you like it to be?”

Fíli felt his mind go blank as he forgot all words that ever existed. Hockey? No that would be too weird. Goat? Nope that just made him think of Kíli and ewww no thanks. Cinnamon? Too many syllables. Pillow? Oh come on he was just naming things about the room now!

 “How about ‘Mountain?’” he said at last.

“Great, sounds perfect.” She chirped, kissing to the side of his face “Now, we’re not going to get very far in this if you’re still fully dressed are we?” She grinned, setting down the gloves and lube by the bedside table. “So would you like me to give you hand in that?”

“Be my guest,” he replied and Sigrid gave him another one of her sultry smiles. She gently lifted his chin up to give him a quick searing kiss. Her fingers trailed down his tank top, pausing to pinch at a nipple. It was one of the hottest days since they’d arrived, reports of warnings for forest fires in the area. There was sweat already around the neck of the top, making it cling to his body and Sigrid’s touch just made it all the worse in the best possible way.

“You really do have the best body I’ve ever seen, Fíli,” she purred, drawing his mouth towards her for another wet kiss. “Golden and thick. I love how it feels between my thighs and one day soon,” she licked the shell of his ear. “I’m going to have you pressed against the bed sheets whilst I ride this fantastic cock of yours.” He let out a shudder as her other hand came to gently press up against his growing erection.

“For now though, I’m going to give you exactly what you’ve asked for. Because,” she carefully explained, lifting his top off over his head, “with abs like these how could a girl say no to anything?”

A drop of sweat began to trickle down his body and Sigrid chased it with her tongue. He tasted of salt and turf and a deep delicious musk that she’d never tasted before, but now couldn’t get enough of. She ran a trail of kisses over him, her fingers still wrapped around his thighs.

Fíli’s shorts were starting to tent now, her head being so close to where his body was craving her to be. “Sigrid, please, can you--”

“--Help you off with your shorts? Why of course.” She grinned, digging her fingers below the waistband and dragging them down in one swift motion along with his boxers. He gave a gasp that quickly became a groan as Sigrid moved her attentions towards his throbbing length. She slowly brushed her face against the side, causing Fíli to grip at the bed sheets.

“This really is a magnificent cock.” She sighed wistfully, taking just the tip into her mouth and swiping her tongue across it before drawing back again. “However we have other plans for tonight, don’t we?” She looked up at him from where she sat on the floor and Fíli was half tempted to just tell her to continue with what was promising to be a rather amazing blow job. But then the thought someone being inside of him again, of Sigrid’s back arched over his and her mouth against him as she pressed her fingers in and out of his arse… yep. The blowjob could certainly wait.

“On the bed then, however you like.” She said patting his leg and Fíli eagerly complied, settling down on all fours, facing the backboard of the twin bed. “Wonderful.” She hummed, grabbing her supplies once more and climbing back onto the mattress.

“We’ll go slowly,” she reaffirmed, stroking him up and down his back in soothing motions. “If it’s ever too much, just say the safety word and I’ll stop. Okay?”

 “Okay.” He nodded, nerves coming back to him now but Sigrid continued to try and soothe him with gentle caresses along his back.

“Just relax and try not to think too much.” She leant over him and he could feel the press of her against him as she placed a small reassuring kiss to his shoulder bone. He sighed back into the touch, lifting himself higher into the air as he did so.

“Beautiful.” She smiled again, gently stroking the curve of his arse. “You really do have one of the best arses here, I want you to know that.”

“Well you’re very welcome.” He replied, starting to relax back into things. He felt her fingers trail down him and just slip underneath to gently play with his balls, causing him to groan and push back against her once more. He was so ready and willing, his round, pert arse completely irresistible. A flash of thought went through Sigrid’s mind of the strap on she kept in her wardrobe, sending a wave of pulsing heat through her core.   

“Mmmm, yes, this is definitely going to be fun,” she hummed as she continued to rub loose circles against his skin. He felt like he was already melting into her touch, each caress causing warmth to spread throughout him, unrelated to the sweltering heat of the room.

“I’m going to make a start now,” she said and Fíli felt a delicate kiss on his skin, followed by the light press of gloved finger against his hole. He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes and letting himself sink into the sensation.

“Wonderful,” Sigrid murmured, reaching out to stroke a hand through his hair and Fíli arched into it. He was already starting to lose himself to her and they’d barely even started. Sigrid was holding her finger in place, waiting for Fíli’s go ahead to move on.

“Alright,” he panted slightly, “give it to me.” He felt her finger move away from him and even though he knew why he couldn’t help but let out a groan of annoyance.

“Shhhh,” soothed Sigrid. “Give me a moment to lube up.”

“Well hurry up about it.” He grunted. “This is meant to be my victory win after all.”

Sigrid gave a deep chuckle. “Exactly right. Now, tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Start with one and go from there.” He said before letting out another groan as he felt a damp finger press against him with more pressure this time. Even he’d forgotten how sensitive he could be, or maybe it was simply that he hadn’t had any in so long that his body was making up for lost time. Either way this was starting to feel like the best idea he’d ever had, ever.

“Yes,” he sighed, “yes, slowly, I want to feel the stretch.”

“As you command me, my lord,” grinned Sigrid, finding herself equally turned on by this suddenly more demanding Fíli, completely at odds with the panicking mess from before. He was far more assertive, his confidence building into her own. Fíli little breathless groans sent a wave of want through her, and she was desperate to bring out as many of those noises as possible. She slid her finger into him, blushing slightly at the deep groan he let out. He felt so tight, his body pulsing around her finger and she let out her own gasp at the sensation. She longed to touch at herself, to ignite the spark he was setting through her but she ignored it, focussing all her attentions on him. She channeled her desire into him, doing everything she could to please him.

“Yes, yes. Just like that, fuck that’s good.” He moaned into the pillow. “Now pull out again, yes, slowly, perfect,” he groaned, drawing out each syllable of the word. He felt alive, his whole body was alight with pleasure as it rolled through him. Sparks were already flying behind his eyes, his skin trembling “Sigrid don’t stop, keep it going.”

 She was more than happy to comply. He was a mess, a groaning, moaning, sweaty mess beneath her hands and yet he was the one who still held all the power. She moved her whole body in time with his, her own skin prickling electricity. Watching him give in to everything like this was glorious and she felt a deep heat begin to roll around her in a mix of untamed groans. When he called her name he made it sound like a cry of worship.

“Yes Sigrid, yes! Another, just one more, please, yes Sigrid! Oh Sigrid!” he yelled as she slipped in and out of him. He loved the feeling so much, being made to feel full and sensitive all over, the way his cock would strain against him desperate to be touched but being too absorbed into the jolting pleasure from within him to do anything about it. Fingers were never going to be the same as a cock, real or synthetic, but damn it if Sigrid’s didn’t feel like the key to nirvana right about now.  

“Okay, okay,” he breathed. “I’m close Sigrid, fuck I’m-- but I need you to; ah! Yes that’s--” He couldn’t complete his sentence, but he knew that Sigrid would understand in the way she seemed to understand everything else about his body. He felt her fingers begin to slowly press against his walls, searching for that pleasure point. Each time she missed it just sent a further jolt within him, shivering up his body and pouring out of him in a mess of swear words and sweat.

“ _Ohh_ ,” he whispered as her fingers finally found it, sending a shock of white lighting throughout him as a trickle of come dripped onto the sheets. Sigrid paused between each press, waiting for him to catch his breath and then lightly doing it again; sending him teetering to the edge before pulling him back all over again. He could hear her own stifled moans and It was glorious. He felt pleasure building up and up, but refusing to be released, as they both held back, trying to let the sensation play throughout them as long as they could. He felt energised and exhausted at the same time.

Yet Fíli became desperate for that final touch to send him tumbling into the oncoming light. He tried to balance himself on one arm and reached down towards his cock but another gentle push and pull from Sigrid’s fingers had him gasping for air, causing him to have to put two hands back down on the bed just to stop himself from falling off it completely.

“Do you want me to take that task under hand?” asked Sigrid, watching him squirm beneath her.

“Yes please,” he whined. “But don’t leave me empty,” he added desperately and Sigrid let out a small chuckle.

“Oh you silly boy, like I could ever do that to you.” Her fingers gave a final twitch inside of him as her other hand clumsily reached up between his legs to stroke in time along his prick. He was red and veined and at her lightest touch he seemed to break apart completely. He shattered before her very eyes as he shouted her name so loudly she thought it would echo. If their neighbours had made complaints then they would have been drowned out as everything in Sigrid’s world narrowed down to the sight before her: Fíli, broken and done and looking royally fucked.

Fíli let out a final moan as he finished and dropped his head back down onto the bed. Sigrid carefully pulled her fingers out of him, allowing him to collapse completely onto the ruined sheets.

“Thank you.” He whispered into the pillow, unable to move anymore. He felt empty and loose without her in him but there was a peace to it, everything else had gone from him. His mind just drew one complete blank and if you asked him where he was right now, he’d struggle to remember the right hemisphere, let alone continent.

Sigrid watched him lying there peacefully for a moment, allowing the warmth within her to kindle a little more with each breath he took. Eventually she tore her eyes away from him and climbed off the bed and into the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled, lifting his head to watch her.

“Just to put this in the bin and wash up a bit.” She smiled, waving her gloved hand at him. “And possibly to deal with some other stuff as well.” She winked before heading into the bathroom and leaving the rest up to Fíli’s imagination.

The problem was, it turned out Fíli had quite a good imagination. Sigrid was just finishing up washing her hands and considering whether to have a quick wank right now, or wait until he had left to go back to his own room and finish it up in her own time, when she caught a sight of him in the bathroom mirror.

“Come on Fí,” she sighed, “we do need boundaries in this you know.”

“I know,” he shrugged, still leaning in the doorway and looking at her through the mirror. He’d clearly tried to wipe the come off his stomach but he’d just managed to work it further into his considerable chest hair. It _should_ have been gross. “But I also know that I won this round of the bet, I mean did you hear how many goals we scored today?”

“I did indeed,” said Sigrid, a glowing measure of pride rising up inside of her at how, with just a single hand, she’d been able to bring back all his confidence. The notion sent a ripple of expectation through her. “But I think you already got your reward or did you forget?”

“How could I ever forget about that?” he said with a note of disbelief.

“Well exactly, I thought I did quite a good job too. You were out for the count a moment ago.”

“Well, an opponent might think so, but you know me; I’ve excellent stamina, and I think there’s still something left in this game for me to win.”

“And what’s that?” she asked, turning around to face him properly at last.

“The simple delight of seeing you come.” He smiled, and Sigrid felt another coil of heat build up within her. Oh he was good.

“Well,” she said, licking her lips. “I suppose it was a hat-trick.”

“Mmmm, it was,” he agreed, stepping into the bathroom with a slight swagger.

“And it would only be fair to reward you in line with that.”

“The only good and proper thing _entirely_.” He nodded seriously, grabbing her by the sides and watching as her eyes began to widen and her breathing got heavier.

“Alright then,” she said, feeling her throat start to go dry at the look of pure desire he was giving her. His grin grew, and he carefully turned her back round so she was facing the mirror again, taking Sigrid somewhat by surprise. He lifted his chin up to gently rest it on her shoulder as he cupped her breast through her top. She had never been more grateful for not wearing a bra, getting to feel the warm pressure of his hand against her more firmly.

“I want you to see what I see every time,” he whispered in her ear, his voice soft as velvet as he began to roll her breast in his hand. Sigrid’s breath hitched in her throat, the heat in her belly growing with it. The fabric of her shorts was starting to stick to her, providing level of friction that was somehow too much and still not enough.

Fíli’s hands moved away from her breast and started to ghost up her sides, her whine of annoyance turning to a whimper of pleasure as he began to suck the pulse point of her neck.

“Less is more, I think,” he hummed, brushing his cheek against hers, the gentle scratch of his beard making her quiver. She raised her arms above her head, allowing him to pull her top off. He took his time doing it, lifting it inch by inch as if trying to drag the evening out as long as possible. The slow pull of the fabric felt like sweet torture against her. He dropped the top to the floor and his hand came up to mould against her breast once more. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sensation filling her up but felt his voice against her neck once more.

“Open your eyes, Pretty Sigrid.” He grinned, “I told you, I want you to see what I see.”

She did as she was told and caught eyes with herself in the mirror and let out a noise of surprise that had Fíli letting out a low purr against her neck. She felt the vibrations travel through her and watched her reflection shiver.

She looked like a wreck, Sigrid realised. Her breasts had always been small but his hands somehow dwarfed them further. It made her feel the absence of him all the more. He was focussed purely on just one, rolling it between his fingers and letting out delicious murmurs with each push and pull. She felt an ache and her eyes drifted to the one he’d left abandoned. The nipple was pointed and bare, looking lonely against the flushed pink skin; she brought her own hand up tentatively and gave it a squeeze. She gave a groan at the joint sensation and it matched the one in her ear. She started to try and work a rhythm in time with Fíli’s hand, which left her gasping for air. The sight of them both was incredible, the way they worked at her body in tandem, the intuitive way she began to buck forward only for him to pull her back towards him. She saw the hitches of her breath, the redness of her lips, the beads of sweat dripping down her at the hot press of his naked body.

He kept his hand steady against her, continuing to cup her but his other one began to slip underneath her shorts. Sigrid let out a gasp and leant forward to grab at the sink for support.

“No underwear I see.” He chuckled, his breath heavy against her neck. “Expecting company, were we?”

“Fuck off, you bastard,” she said, shaking her head at his reflection.

“Rude,” he tutted, drawing his hand away and making Sigrid give out an undignified, high-pitched whine.

“Don’t be even more of a bastard!”

“I’m being a gentleman.” He scoffed, “You’re the one being rude. Why should I want to give a hand job to someone who calls me a bastard?”

Sigrid had no idea how his voice could be so steady when she felt herself starting to shake apart from within.

“Fine then.” She huffed. “I’m sorry, now please, for both our sakes, get back to it.” She wrapped his hand in hers and brought it back down her shorts. The mirror only showed her above the torso, but she saw the way her mouth fell open at his touch and the sight of it sent another strike of lightning from her brain, clattering with the growing ball in her stomach and making her grip onto his wrist for support. Fíli pinned himself against her, sucking wet kisses along her neck. His hand finally moved away from her breast and he began to pull her shorts down just enough to give them both a bit more room.

Sigrid sighed at the loss of friction, but soon enough she was moaning again as his whole hand rubbed against her. He wasn’t trying to tease her now by building up a slow burning coil like before. He was going at her with hard fast strokes, dragging the base of his hand roughly against her clit. She was dancing between pleasure and pain, her brain starting to melt as it became all she could focus on.

“Keep watching,” he ordered, and she did.

Her eyes were fixed on her appearance. Red faced, hair sticking to her skin, his mouth still working her neck and her eyes so dark it was as if they’d always been that way. Her breasts were heaving, kept in balance with his wicked hand; his golden skin beautifully contrasted against her own. They looked amazing together. Like a matching pair, designed with the erotic power people usually had to pay to see.

“I’m close.” She groaned. “I’m so close Fí.” She writhed against his hand, desperately chasing her orgasm. “ _Please_ , fuck, I’m gonna. Fí-Fíli!”

“That’s it, Pretty Sigrid. Come on, for me. Do it for me. Let me see you.” His hand sped up and Sigrid reached round to drag his mouth to hers. She kissed him like that alone could make her come and Fíli found himself groaning into it, his hand ceasing its frantic strokes for a moment while Sigrid fucked herself onto him instead. He let her take ahold of his hand completely, allowing her to use him in whatever way she wanted. He could practically feel her groan that seemed to rock throughout her from mouth to crotch. Her body quivered and he knew that he was the only thing keeping her upright at this moment. His hand was dripping wet and he could still feel her riding against him even as her moans turned to whimpers.

She was beautiful.

Sigrid collapsed back against him, feeling loose and floppy in his arms. She could still feel her heart pounding and there was still the lightest tingle stirring away between her thighs. This man was amazing, completely amazing and a complete bastard.

“You should go.” She said at last, looking at them in the mirror. They made such a happy looking pair, like a real couple. His arms tightened around her for a brief moment before letting go completely.

“You’re right.” He nodded, his smile becoming slightly fixed “Éowyn could be back soon. We don’t want another incident like the other day.”

Sigrid gave a small laugh. “No. No we really wouldn’t. It might be harder to explain away this time. I’m already going to have to burn those sheets if I don’t want the cleaners asking questions.”

“Well then I’ll leave you to it and say good night.” He said, turning her back round to face him at last. He hesitated for a moment, then went up on tiptoe for a gentle kiss. It was nothing heated or sultry, just your standard goodnight kiss, but it left Sigrid feeling completely bowled over.

“I’ll see myself out,” he continued, stepping away from her. “Sorry for interrupting you in the first place.” He winked, closing the bathroom door behind him. Sigrid turned back to face the mirror. She had a hundred and one questions buzzing through her head right now and no way of answering them.

Fíli leant against the back of the door and took a deep breath. There were always going to be certain feelings you had about someone you were shagging, especially post-orgasm where your brain was still riding high. He just needed to calm back down again. He had a game in the morning, one the team needed to win if they were going to stay in the tournament, and also, a part of his brain told him, if he wanted to keep seeing Sigrid.

He quickly gathered his clothes and made his way back to his room as fast as he could. Nori was already in there, lying on top of the bed flicking through his phone.

“So,” he said when he spotted Fíli, “you ever going to tell me who this girl you’re sleeping with is?”

“What girl?” asked Fíli, aiming for casual. “I’m going to have a shower, do you want to use the bathroom before me?”

“Na-ah-ah!” interrupted Nori, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t go running and hiding, I know you’re seeing someone. I heard from one of the divers that you had a girl in here the other day when I was out.”

“Well, so what?” he sighed, folding his arms.

 “Nothing, nothing!” said Nori raising his hands in the air. “Just wanted to know if it was true, which apparently it is.” His smirk grew wider by the second, his clever eyes searching Fíli for clues as to whom it might be, however Fíli kept quiet. Sigrid had said she didn’t want anyone to know and he’d agreed to that. He didn’t want to have to deal with the backlash from their relationship either, but still a part of him wished to shout it to the world. It was probably still the dopamine talking though, chemicals in the brain telling you what to do and all that.

“The diver said she was really hot.” Nori tried again, but Fíli still didn’t respond. “Well mate, if she _is_ as hot as they said, then I’ve no idea what she’s doing with an ugly mug like you. If she wants to swap you for a better player, get her to call me.” He winked jokingly.

Fíli gave his friend a weak smile and an all too fake laugh.

Replaceable, that was who he was. Nori was right, there was always another player waiting to take your place. Someone younger, fitter and stronger who’d probably do a much better job than you ever could. Who wouldn’t think too much or put themselves down or let pressure get to them at the last moment. Who’d manage to achieve everything you’d ever dreamed of without breaking a sweat.

That was the very nature of sport; the nature of life. This was the Olympics and there could be no space for doubters like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to give a special shout out to MagicMarker for being such a great beta and helping make this chapter what it is, and to Dr Lindsey Doe for her Sex Education Videos. You both rock!


	9. Players must not touch, handle or interfere with other players or their sticks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re going to make me wear it and then, do stuff?

“Welcome to Day Five of these Rio 2016 Olympics and what a day we have in store for you! We’ve got Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took in the final of the men’s synchronised platform dive coming up this afternoon where you are; and you can see Pippin’s Sister, Pearl Took, fighting for an assured place in the hockey quarterfinals soon after. That’s the GB vs India game at ten pm, British time.

“The men’s team are also seeing action today against Australia, and in fact you can now cross over right now to BBC 4 where the game is just starting, with Haleth Edain and Glorfindel Flowers commentating.”

~*~

Fíli hopped from foot to foot as he waited for the buzzer to signal the start of the match. He could sense this game wasn’t going to go his way from the moment he’d woken up, feeling all too eager to pull the duvet back over his head and try to block out the world. Something just wasn’t right with him. His shoulder was aching and he’d tried to tape it up but it just did fuck all. He’d barely been able to eat at breakfast and Dwalin had practically forced toast down his throat at one point with a threat that he’d call Dís if he didn’t eat properly. Fíli believed him.

He was rather glad that Noenid had been caught ‘in the act’ with Boromir the night before and so any suspicion against his own arse were cut short by the lads’ hollers for their captain and his rather thorough ‘tactical research’ on the Aussie Captain.

It didn’t seem to bother Noenid though. He claimed he wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but Fíli recognised the look of confidence and swagger from someone who’d had one hell of a shag. He’d seen it in himself these past few days with Sigrid. He’d wake up feeling amazing about himself no matter what had happened the day before, but despite how in control he’d felt last night something seemed to have shaken him to the core. It was possibly the very real sensation that if they failed to win today, then he would have to kiss goodbye to the quarters and, in turn, say goodbye to Sigrid.

The horn went. The Umpire signalled. The ball was pushed and the game began.

~*~

“And the the first goal of the game goes to Australia! Scored by their Captain, Boromir Steward whose brother is also here at Rio Captaining for the Canadians thanks to their mother.”

“Of course Findel, they’re not the only sibling duo playing on different sides. Fíli McBuri’s brother plays for Ireland thanks to their father; a bit controversial considering their family’s history with GB. But knowing their mother, who is of course the famous Dís Durinson, she’ll be cheering them both on no matter what. As will their uncles I’m sure.”  

“Fíli McBuri’s not having the best of games here, is he Haleth?”

“I don't know Findel, he’s getting in there and working for it. He’s making good possession but I’ll agree there seems to be something bothering him. However he is just one player, we can't be putting the whole game on his shoulders just because of who his family is.”

“Quite right Haleth, there’s ten other players out there.”

~*~

Fíli sunk into the dugout with his head between his legs. Something was happening between the team and he couldn’t tell what it was. Everything was scrappy and all over the place. They’d had opportunities but they’d made absolutely nothing of them. He felt run out. A sudden pit opened up in his stomach as he began to wonder if this was all down to him not spending his evenings with them, choosing instead to selfishly focus his attentions on Sigrid.

“Lads, come on. You’re all better than this,” growled Dwalin, staring down at them all. “You’re one of the fittest teams here, you’ve got the energy to keep fighting, don’t give up now. You can win this game if you want it enough. Because you’re never gonna win this if your hearts not in it. Think about  _ why _ you’re here and hold onto that. Hold on to one another, you’re a  _ team. _ Behave like it.”

The lads all stared at one another slightly guiltily. Dwalin was right, they weren’t fighting for one another in a way a team  _ should _ . They were meant to be a family, loyal to a fault and there for each other without hesitation. A smile broke across Fíli’s face as he locked eyes with Nori. Dwalin was right, they’d been through a lot together.

It wasn’t fair on the rest of them to let his personal worries and hang ups get in the way of their game. He had to push it to the back of his mind. Sigrid wasn’t why he was here today, she wasn’t who he was fighting for, he was fighting for his family. He was fighting to make his mother proud.

It was only half time; there was still plenty of time to even the score line. 

~*~

Okay. So they were 2-0 down in the last quarter, but the game wasn’t over.

It only took twelve seconds to score a goal, that’s what his Mum had always told him and she was correct. Of course she was correct! She was Dís Fucking Durinson! Nobody knew more about hockey than she did save perhaps Thorin. They’d both be be at home right now, cheering him on and he had to get this, he had to do this right. He could hear Thorin in his ear right now: “You’re a Durinson, Fíli! And Durinsons don’t run away from a fight.”

Finn passed the ball to him on his left and Fíli picked it up easily, sprinting down the pitch once more. How many times had he made this run only for it to end in heartbreak? No. He couldn’t think about that right now.

“Fíli, to your right!” shouted Nori and Fíli did a quick touch to the left to avoid an Aussie defender before passing it to Nori who took the ball right into the D. There was speed within them now. He could tell the rest of the boys wanted this game as much as he did. It had taken them forty-five minutes to find their pace but they had it.

Boromir himself knocked it out of Nori’s grasp but Fíli was there to pick it back up, hitting it back towards the goal with all his strength. The ball skittered against the side post but a desperate nudge from Finn knocked into the goal!

The crowd erupted into cheers, shouts of “GB LET’S GO!” rang out across the stadium again, a sound that had been so desperately absent throughout this match.  The clock on the wall said they had five minutes left. Five minutes, that was doable, that was fine! There was no—

The Aussies were on fire. They were desperate for a third goal now GB were finally showing some fighting spirit. The Aussies couldn’t hold them back though, the ball was constantly in their half, making them feel the pressure the Brits were piling on them.

Two minutes to go and Fíli had this.  _ They _ had this.

He raised his stick to hit it back into the D but it got intercepted by a defender and flicked to the opposite end of the pitch. Haldir was there to pass it back and to try and get it back into the D. Get a foot, get a short, get the game to drag out that little bit…

It was too late. The horn went. The Umpire signalled. The ball stopped and the game ended.

They were now officially second from the bottom of their table. And it would take a miracle for them to move onto the next round.

~*~

“And the ladies have done it! A three - one victory against India secures Great Britain a place in the quarterfinals before the group stages are  _ even over _ !”

“It’ll be a great relief to them, Haleth, especially after some of the trouble they had back in 2012.”

“It’s much deserved Findel, they’ve all played extraordinary so far this whole tournament.”

“Do you think it’s too early to be talking medals?”

“Well let’s not jinx it just yet. But the way these girls have been playing? Who knows Findel, who knows.”

“Either way there’s sure to be some celebrations in the changing room later.”

“Oh that is something I would  _ definitely _ bet on! I know from experience that nobody throws a party like a Took, and there’ll be two of them partying tonight.”

~*~

“We did it, we did it, we did it!” cried Morwen, grabbing Hild by the waist and spinning her around whilst all the other girls clapped and cheered. It felt amazing. They were through to the quarterfinals, no questions asked! It didn’t matter what happened against Japan or the USA – they’d already done enough.

Sigrid was giddy from it. It wasn’t quite the gut-soaring feeling of winning a medal, but it felt close. Of course they all still wanted to beat Japan and the USA to keep their clean streak, but it was good to know they could take a moment to breathe. If Háma would allow it of them.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies!” she said, coming into the room and doing her best to suppress her grin. “Come on now. I don’t want any of you getting cocky about this, I want you to keep your heads down if you want to top the table. Don’t underestimate Japan tomorrow, they want this as much as you do.”

The girls all nodded in agreement, attempting to look solemn before bursting into cheers and dancing again. They were meant to be being serious, but after four days of focus and concentration they all felt like they could do with some time to let their hair down properly. Even without their win, Pearl’s baby brother had won a bronze medal and it wasn’t like they could just  _ ignore _ that achievement!

They all showered and went back as a group, bursting into fits of song whenever they felt like it. It didn’t escape any of the team’s attention at the amount of make up Éowyn and Sigrid had decided to put on for what was only a short walk. Éowyn had been texting as soon as the match ended and had pocketed her phone with a look of certain triumph.

“Sorry ladies, but I’ve got my own celebration plans for this evening.” She winked as they passed by the Canadian barracks. The team chanted her name like a conquering hero and Sigrid felt a ripple run through her. If Éowyn was spending the night at Canada’s then that meant she probably have the whole night with Fíli to do as she wished.

Her ideas were cut short by the solemn sight of the men’s team. They were all sitting round on the sofas, their heads in their hands and looking completely at odds with the women’s joyous chatter and the mayhem going behind them by the pool. Pippin and Merry were out there already, demonstrating how exactly  _ not _ to win a medal. There was a giant  _ splash  _ and a roar of laughter from their assembled fans. Peal shook her head fondly and went to go congratulate them both by shoving them back into the pool.

Most of the ladies went to join her, offering polite hellos to the men but not really feeling like they’d be able to give them much sympathy after such different matches. Sigrid noted that Fíli was curiously absent. She wanted to ask after him but that would probably only add to the team’s suspicions. Yet she knew how easily he was shaken by results and desperately needed to know if he was alright or not. Luckily, Idril had always been a sensitive one.

“So where’s everyone else?” asked Idril, looking around at the boys and doing a head count.

“Nori, Haldir and Gilly are outside by the pool trying to salvage the night, and Fíli’s upstairs in his room being, well, Fíli,” sighed Noenid.

Tauriel nodded sympathetically; she knew all too well the woes of being captain. It was one thing to inspire your players on the pitch, another thing entirely to keep that up once they were of it as well.

“Oh cheer up you lot,” said Dagní, “it’s not the end of the tournament just yet and besides, it’s the Olympics! You’re not going to get any points by moping about.”

“No, you’re right, but still…” sighed Finn, taking a sip of his coke which he seemed to wish contained a lot more rum.

“Na, that’s losing talk that is,” Dagní said brightly. “Come on. I’ve taken on everyone in the building at Foosball apart from you guys. Mini tournament, what do you say?” she beamed and a few of the lads raised their heads hopefully.

“You’re on Blacklock,” grinned Théo, the men’s goalkeeper and Dagní’s training partner back home. “How about we include the whole team on this one? We’ll go goalie to goalie, then Tau and Noah can go captain to captain and so on, sound like a fair deal?”

“Sounds like you’re on.” Dagní said, spitting on her palm and sticking it out to Théo. He copied her and firmly shook the offered hand.

“What are we playing for then?” asked Noenid, who was not sure he was entirely okay with his Goalkeeper signing him up without consultation. Tauriel on the other hand was rather used to it, and still trusted Dagní with everything she had.

“Pride of course!” the keepers said together, taking a moment to high five on their snap. Everyone made noises of agreement and headed over to the disused Foosball table to set up the game and call the rest of their teams over.

Sigrid made an attempt to seem interested in the game but her worries over what they’d said about Fíli were still nagging at the back of her brain. She watched for a bit, making appropriate noises whenever Dagní scored, before she quietly made her excuses and heading back up to their rooms. 

She hesitated outside Fíli’s door. She didn’t have a key and she couldn’t guarantee that he was still in there or what state he’d be in. She pulled herself together though and rapped smartly on the door, waiting for a response.

“Nori did you lose your key again?” asked Fíli, his voice muffled by the door. “Oh. Sigrid, it’s you,” he said, opening it and staring out at her with quiet shock. Then a bright smile spread across his face, “I guess you’re here to claim your reward?”

Sigrid felt slightly taken aback, “Well, I wouldn’t say  _ no _ of course. But I thought you were the one who could do with some cheering up.” He was wearing a light cotton flannel shirt and a pair of knee length shorts, the door to the balcony was still open and it was clear he’d been standing out there looking out at the night. Over all it made him look… soft. 

Fíli froze again as a series of unreadable thoughts flittered across his face. “Well, seeing you has certainly cheered me up already. Please do come in.” He graciously stepped to the side with the air of inviting someone into a stately home rather than a tiny twin room filled with abandoned sports gear.  “So,” he said again, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her waist, “what plans do you have for me?”

“I was serious Fí, I’m not just here for sex, I-- Noah said you were upset by the match and--”

“Look I really don’t want to talk about it,” Fíli snapped, surprising Sigrid somewhat. “We’re out of the tournament and I know it and-- I just want to forget it. I’ll be going home soon enough so let’s just try and enjoy tonight whilst we still have it, alright?”

“Fíli, you’re not out yet,” Sigrid soothed, feeling hurt by his words in a way she couldn’t quite understand. “You’ve still got a chance! If you beat Spain and they beat Belgium then you can still make it! Once you’re in the quarters, who  _ cares _ about where you were in your table?” She stroked a strand of hair behind his ear in a move that felt far too natural for all the small amount time they’d known one another. “I’m not ready to say goodbye to you just yet.”

Fíli blinked up at her, a small smile of affection spreading across his face and there was a glimmer of distant hope in his eyes. “You mean that?”

“Of course! What would I do without my favourite fuck buddy?” she laughed, cupping his face in her hands. The light in his eyes extinguished and she found herself suddenly in a state of panic, desperate to bring it back. “I mean, you’re my friend Fí, I want to see you happy and—I know! You want to forget right? You want it to just be you and me tonight, yeah?”

“More than anything,” he said, and there was that hope again, more wistful than before but present nonetheless. He clearly wasn’t ready to give up on a medal yet and she would make him hold onto that.

“So how about,” she began, bending down to whisper in his ear, “I take you apart piece by piece and make you all anew.”

Her breath was light on Fíli’s ear and it sent a shiver down his back. She didn’t touch him but he felt her gaze set a spark alight within him, kindling it with a sultry smile.

“Okay,” he said, with a small gulp. She slipped his hand into hers and held it against her heart.

“You trust me?” she asked.

“To the end of the earth,” he answered. It felt like a vow.

“Excellent.” She smiled, placing a light kiss to his knuckles before letting him go. “Now, you still got that sleeping mask from the flight?”

“Err, yes?” He frowned. The conversation had suddenly taken a very different direction.

“Where is it?”

“In the bedside cabinet.”

“You have condoms and stuff here as well?” she asked, rummaging about in it. Fíli stayed where he was, slowly putting two and two together. She wasn’t thinking what he  _ thought _ she was thinking, was she? She made a triumphant noise and pulled it out from the back, digging out a condom as well. She swung the eye mask around on her finger with an air of complete control over the world.

“Now Fíli, judging by your face you know exactly what I am thinking of doing with this sleeping mask, but why don’t you extrapolate for me?”

“You’re going to make me wear it and then, do stuff?” he blinked trying to decide if this was a route he wanted to go down. He’d never really thought about anything this… out there before. Okay so compared to a lot of the stuff his teammates (and indeed his kinky slut of a brother) got up to, it promised to be completely vanilla; but it was still all pretty new to him.

“I am going to do a lot of things to you, and you are going to like them all,” proclaimed Sigrid in a low-pitched voice that made his pulse quicken. “However you’re going to have to be very good if you want them.”

“Or…”

“Or I’ll make you regret it.”

“Erm, Sig,” he began nervously, “not to be a downer, but-- I’m not sure I’m really okay with—“

“Oh shit, no! Fuck! Not like that!” Sigrid yelped, her cool demeanour drained from her in favour of panic. “I meant, you know, just denial and things. Not any of that, pain stuff. Unless you want to I just-- no. Just a blindfold, and a promise from you that you won’t touch me, or say anything at all unless I say you can?” She asked more shyly this time, making it sound far more like a request than she had before.

“Well, a bet’s a bet and if it’s what you want.” He smiled, moving towards her to take the blindfold. It certainly sounded like it could be interesting.

“Are you sure, I need you to be sure Fí,” asked Sigrid earnestly, holding back the eye mask in a way that reminded Fíli of that day on the pitch where they’d tussled over the water pistol. Was that really only two months ago? It felt like a lifetime.

“I’m sure,” he said, now his turn to take her hand. “Do your worst, Mistress.”

“Idiot.” She chuckled, gently placing the mask over his eyes and adjusting it into place, smoothing back his hair with a gentle hand. The mask did its job, with only a small glimmer of light coming in from the bottom. He let out a nervous breath, entirely unsure what was going to happen from here but equally certain that he trusted Sigrid and was more than willing to put his happiness into her hands.

“Now,” she said carefully, and Fíli felt her fingers trail loosely down his body. “If anything gets too much, just use our safety word form last night, alright? Do you remember it?”

Fíli nodded, uncertain if he was allowed to speak or not.

“Can you tell me it?” she said with a slightly amused note.

“Oh right, Mountain.” He replied apologetically.

“Excellent.” Sigrid announced and gave him a small, sweet kiss. He felt the roughness of her lips and the gentle warmth of her face so close to his. Even as she pulled away he caught a hint of her scent, still fresh from her post-match shower with just a hint of sweat from the heat of the night. Without sight everything was broken down to just the touch and smell and he could see why so many people were into this.

“I’m going to undress you now,” she told him, starting to methodically undo each one of his shirt buttons. Fíli felt himself become more exposed with each one. The sensation was strange, oddly exhilarating for such a standard act. Sigrid’s appreciative noises as her hands ran up through newly exposed chest hair made him feel like a present being unwrapped. He felt her shift from his front and draw back his shirt from behind, finally fully exposing him to the air. She stepped away from him for a time and surely it had never been so cold in here before?

After far too long she came back to him, kissing his neck as she ran her hands along his belly. She still didn’t say a word, and he basked in the silence. His entire focus was on her caress, her hands somehow rougher than he’d remembered and all the better for it. Her body was pressed up close to his and he was aware that there was no longer the touch of fabric there but rather the soft press of her bare breasts against him. He licked his lips and she must have been able to tell what he was thinking as she spoke to him once more.

“Yes. I’m shirtless now, same as you. I’ve folded it up all neat and tidy right next to yours.” And okay that really, really should not have been hot, the idea of her right up next to him, beside him in all things and the sheer domesticity of it even in this scenario, even when she had him blindfolded and at her mercy; but something about the way she said it set a glow from within him. 

He felt her move back round to shift down to the floor and he let out a slight gasp. Her hands steadied on his hips and he felt the cord of his shorts come loose before they dropped completely to the floor around his feet. His knees felt surprisingly shaky as his cock began to stir into life.

“Shhhh,” hushed Sigrid, “no need to panic Fí, I’m here.” She sucked a wet kiss against his stomach, her tongue dancing across each muscle and Fíli felt the strain of his cock against his boxers, desperate to be touched.

“Now, step out of these shorts.” She ordered, tapping him on his leg. He reached out to balance himself on her shoulder before snapping his hand back, aware of her instructions to not touch her.

“It’s alright.” She laughed and he could feel her breath as she did so, a soft ghost of it against his desperate skin. He put a hand on her shoulder and kicked the shorts away. She gave a gentle hum and felt her finger trail loosely against him through the fabric of his boxers. He clenched his hands into tight fists, willing himself to not tug her closer to him, his whole body tensed up in anticipation. He practically stopped breathing when he felt her mouth on him, the cling of the cotton mixed with the warmth of her mouth something new entirely.

“You’re good at this,” he felt her purr, “but let’s see if I can’t tempt you into being a bit naughty, hmm?”

He let out another gulp as she pulled his boxers down, his nails digging into his own palms with an effort of not touching her. It was such sweet, sweet torture. He was entirely open to her now, bare beneath her gaze and her touch, weak to her advances. She kissed his hip and gripped his arse and it was all so close that he couldn’t bare it. That now familiar warmth grew and grew within him, balling up in his stomach.

She felt like a sandstorm, relentless in her touch and her grip, the gentle bites she gave his skin all coming in thick and fast and leaving him winded. His cock was hard and every now and then he felt her brush across him, her cheek, her thumb, gentle and accidental but wholly deliberate if he knew his lover at all. He longed to look at her, to watch her but the absence of that only emphasised everything else she was doing to him. It was like electricity running through his body, providing a whole new set of sensations he’d never felt before, every single part of him, neck, arms, legs, burnt with desire.

“Oh Fí, you really do have such great stamina.” She purred into his thigh, the vibration travelling deep into his skin. “Come on then, beg me for it. I know what you want of course, but I want you to beg.”

“Please Sigrid. I’m begging you. Please, please!” he burst out all at once, gasping for air.

“Please what?” she responded mockingly and oh he hated this woman.

“Please anything! My cock-- I want you to,  _ anything _ . Mouth, hands, fuck, your cunt would be-- please!” he cried out, his face scrunched up in desperation. Sigrid hummed again, as she contemplated his sorry fate. He was lost to her, completely lost to the point where he had no idea what anything else felt like anymore.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” she said at last, and then her mouth was on him so suddenly he felt winded by it. She sucked him hard and fast, so as soon as he felt encased by her she was gone again. It was almost painful and his breath heaved higher and higher. She groaned around him and it the vibration travelled right up his cock and up his spine to echo in his own desperate noise.

He couldn’t help but reach down to grab at her hair as just some way to anchor himself otherwise he thought he would fall straight through the carpet. She made a triumphant sound and pulled away from him completely, pushing his arms back down to his sides.

Damn her.

“Knew I could break you.” She laughed, and he felt her stand up once more. “I’m impressed though. Who knew you were so disciplined? But like I’d make it that quick and easy for you when we have all night. I saw Nori, he’s not going to be going anywhere in a hurry. So,” she didn’t say anything, just finishing her sentence with a kiss.

Despite her slow and delicate movements against his mouth, he felt so tightly strung from her that even the most gentle of touch felt like a tirade against his senses. He ached to pull her towards him, feel her flush against his skin, the touch of her thigh on his prick as he slipped it between her legs. However her threat that she would stop touching him if he tried anything made him hold out.

He felt her hand wrap around his, linking their fingers together as her kiss turned softer still. She carefully walked him back towards the bed, Fíli having to trust both her direction and his memory to make sure he didn’t trip on the way. He gave a stifled grunt as it hit the back of his knees and Sigrid pushed down on his shoulders until he was sat down completely.

“Good lad,” she said. “Now move up to the top. I can’t do everything for you.” Fíli eagerly complied, quite literally blindly reaching out behind him as he tried to make sure he didn’t fall off. He felt the pillow between his fingers and shifted further towards it, arranging himself so he was flat on his back once more. He let Sigrid rearrange the pillow under his head, until he was feeling completely relaxed and still aching to be touched. The mattress dipped under her weight as she settled beside him, and Fíli held his breath at the jolt of expectation it sent through him. Her hand trailed curiously across his body, lingering here and there and he groaned into her touch, his hands pulling at the sheets.

She gave a thoughtful pinch of his nipple and it was all Fíli could do not to buck straight up into her. Her hand moved up to lift his chin in the air. “Mmmm, you look so good like this Fí. You’re all red and out of breath, you look so damn desperate for everything yet you’re just too well behaved to ask for it. It makes me very, very wet. I want you to know that. You trying so hard not to shout when I know it’ll be my name on your lips,” she gave out a groan and Fíli began to wonder where her other hand was right now. The image made his throat run dry and he could practically feel his blood leaving his brain. 

Sigrid’s breath sped up and she was groaning and moaning against his neck, one hand gripping tightly to his shoulder. He felt her rock next to him, moving the whole bed as she did so. Her panting grew harder and harder.

“Fí, Fí, Fí, I, oh you’re so!” she cried out but he kept himself still, his cock practically whimpering with the effort. Her scent was so thick in the air he could practically taste it.

“You’re so fucking perfect Fí,” she panted into him. Her mouth pushed against his and it was like that alone could bring her off. She dominated him, pulling him into her; moving her tongue against his; biting at his lips and swallowing every moan and shout he had within him. When she eventually pulled away from her he felt himself quivering but her long, deep groan kept him frozen to the spot. He could see her in his mind’s eye, her head thrown back, body arched away from him as she rode her orgasm out on her hand. His imagination lit him on fire and he couldn’t help but scream.

“Fuck Sigrid! Please I need you, don’t do this to me! God, please.” He thought he might weep from the pain of it, needing to be touched and being so ruthlessly denied. He heard Sigrid’s high breathless laugh and then the mattress moved again, only to sink back down between his thighs and oh sweet mercy, yes please.

“You are so whiny. I should punish you for it, but here we are nonetheless. You’re. Too. Fucking. Hot.” She said, punctuating each word with a scrape of her teeth on his body that had Fíli violently throwing his head back on the pillow and willing his hips from bucking up again.

Sigrid moved away and there was nothing for a moment, only silence and air and the drip of sweat on Fíli’s body. He thought he might just melt completely into a desperate puddle. Suddenly she was there again, a hand steadying itself around his cock and he let out an ear splitting groan at just that. She swallowed him again in one swift careful motion and pulled away again and was that, yep, that was a condom. Shit.

“You’ve become quite the screamer, haven’t you?”  She laughed, shifting her weight on either side of him, “Gosh how you must be struggling right now though. You’re trapped between my thighs and still not quite getting what you want, hmm?”

Fíli didn’t dare respond, just screwed his eyes shut even tighter beneath the blindfold. He was sure having a hard-on this big had to be illegal. There had to be health and safety rules about it. Giant four page forms banning this kind of horrendous, glorious, blissfully cruel and unusual punishment.

“This is such a magnificent cock though. Have I told you that before?” mused Sigrid, trailing a light finger up his length and Fíli’s felt his knuckles almost burst from how hard he gripped to the bed. “It’s so thick, I love how much it stretches me, and it’s just the perfect length to hit me where it counts.”

Fíli was going to kill her if she didn’t get on with this. His whole body felt drained of blood and yet still set a blaze. His desire was so strong inside of him, that if she didn’t take him soon he was going to explode.

“Do you think I’m ready for you?” she asked and Fíli felt her fingers gently push inside his mouth. He eagerly sucked on them, moaning around the taste of her cunt.  Taste, scent, imagination; it was all well and good but what he needed was to feel her. He whined pathetically and shoved his hips up into the air, his prick just barely touching her thigh as she moved away from him.

“Eager, aren’t we? Well, I suppose you have been waiting a while. All right then. I’ll give you what you want.” 

Fíli’s mouth fell open in a breathless shout of complete adoration as she slowly sunk down onto him. She was warm, and wet and wrapped around him and it felt  _ fucking _ fantastic. She shifted her weight as she rose up again and he groaned as he felt her slip away only to come back down all the harder.

She set a rocking motion against him; starting slow but building each time. “Come on Fíli, touch me,” she purred, grabbing his hand and pulling it to her breast, pushing him against her. She moaned into the touch and Fíli felt how tender they were, how small and perfect she was. He could feel her nipple press into his palm as she forced him to rub up and down against her. It was almost like she was bringing herself off through him and Fíli’s active imagination filled in the rest.

She kept her movement going, pushing against his hips with all her might. Her other hand rested on his shoulder and he could feel the brush of her hair on his face as she rode him harder and harder, her grip on his hand and his shoulder getting tighter.

“Fíli, yes Fíli. Oh you feel so good Fí. Yes, yes, yes!” she shrieked, her body clenching up around him and Fíli’s mind was completely blank of all other thoughts, there was only the sound skin slapping against skin and the feel of her grinding on him and before he knew it everything in him collapsed. His hands grabbed onto her hips as he forced her back onto him and he flung his head back in a guttural shout of long awaited ecstasy. He felt like the entire world was rocketing around them as he came, his orgasm lasting longer than he could ever have imagined as whole nebulas flashed before his blacked out eyes.

Far off in the distance he heard a light bubble of laughter and a kiss landed on his cheek. “You’re beautiful,” said a voice, as if through water. She moved off of him and he lay flat back out again. Suddenly light came flooding back into view and he blinked rapidly as he tried to process what was going on.

Sigrid was smiling down at him, looking happier than he’d ever seen her. She was flushed red with heat and her tangled hair fell down over one shoulder.

“Well done Fí,” she panted, helping him sit up. “That was quite the prize.”

“It was nothing?” he blinked because surely he should be thanking her? She’d been the one to do everything; he’d just sat back and tried not to let himself go too soon.

“Shut up, that was  _ everything _ .” She laughed, wrapping her hands around his. “I told you, watching you like that was incredible. Oh I’ll be thinking of that in times to come trust me.” She let out a delightful shiver and Fíli felt slightly agog.

“Well, I mean, I will certainly be doing the same because, wow. I just—“

“Liked being blindfolded then?” she grinned.

“I hadn’t thought it could be so, so, expressive,” he said, finding the word to be completely inadequate.

“Glad to have been able to open up new windows to you.” She beamed, seemingly unable to stop. She settled herself by his side and Fíli lifted his arm to let her snuggle up into him. “Oh Fí, I’d love to but let’s get a few things sorted first,” she said kissing him on the cheek. Fíli groaned and let her go so she could go to the toilet and he could peel the condom off of himself and – yuck. He tied it off and chucked it into the bin, stuffing half a box of tissues in over the top.

Sigrid came back in, her hair in slightly better sense of order and smiled at how little Fíli had been able to move. “Quick cuddle?” he asked hopefully and Sigrid’s heart grew at the sight of him.

“Of course.” She replied sweetly, climbing into bed with him and tucking herself up in his arms. Their breathing slowed down in tandem, eyes half closed as they soaked in the noises that surrounded them. The gentle beat of the other’s heart, their breath in their ear, the distant night sounds coming from the city; the stress and mayhem of it was far, far away from where they were on this little island of a bed.

“I can’t stay here forever,” Sigrid announced at last, though she sounded regretful at even having brought it up. “I have a match in the morning, I need to sleep.”

“I know.” murmured Fíli, lifting her chin so he could look her in the eye “but you know, you could sleep here tonight, if you wanted?”

“I’d  _ love _ to Fí but you know I can’t. Nori and Éowyn remember?”

“I know,” sighed Fíli. “I know, I just thought... I don’t know. It’s nice, just this.” He said sleepily, resting his head against hers. Sigrid gave a contented hum in agreement. She couldn’t even explain why it all just felt so right. His arms felt like they were the only place in the world where she belonged. But reality was calling her back and she had a date with Japan tomorrow, she couldn’t spend the night with Fíli in this way. It felt like too much was happening and she was terrified that she’d end up doing something stupid again and ruining it for everyone involved. She had to move away before she hurt someone.  

The more she thought about moving the more she wanted to stay. It wasn’t until she heard Fíli’s gentle snores that she decided to make her move. She lifted his arm up slightly, lowering it carefully back to the bed and got dressed as quietly as she could so as not to wake him.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her did rouse him though and Fíli looked around him in sleep-muffled confusion. He was alone. She had left him; and wasn’t that always going to be the way of things? He let out a pathetic groan as he rolled to his side and tried to get back to sleep without her.

It took an hour, but he managed it in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at a Quidditch Tournament today and I have only ever been to one training session in my life. I think I'm playing alright considering. I got carded for a slide tackle/two armed tackle and sent off... my family were proud of me though. My sister says she has never been /more/ proud of me even. Which is a bit harsh considering I got a Distinction on my Diploma. But I guess it all comes down to Priorities. 
> 
> However, if this 19 year-old Teammate keeps giving me lip for my play, and how I occasionally get rules confused or act on instinct, I may loose my temper properly. I'd say I'd slap him in the face, but I signed a waver saying that I wouldn't deliberately assault anyone. 
> 
> I'll have a 2 hour car journey with him tomorrow though... so if you here of anyone being murdered on the road from Oxford to Loughborough.... it wasn't me..... 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and if you did then please, please, please comment! It keeps me going and fills my dark, lonely, Final Year days with a moment of blissful hope. And if you are commenting then know that I love you. SO MUCH. SO SO SO MUCH!


	10. Substitution of a player is permitted only after that player has left the field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> desperately sliding across the D

With heat comes fire and with fire comes smoke. The temperature had been rising steadily throughout the city, everyone feeling the sweat drip down their backs. A forest fire had broken out behind the BMX Stadium, it wasn’t anything unheard of but it still sent a nervous shiver throughout the athlete’s village. They had had to cancel some of the events, and there was the threat that the smoke cloud would pass over the hockey pitches calling an end to the games.

However so far things had been going fine, the smoke kept at bay by the still air. The GB Women had been able to play their game against Japan and had predictably continued their winning streak. Some of the more superstitious players were starting to get nervous now. It was very unusual for a team win every single one of their games; usually getting at least one draw in the group stage, yet here GB were sitting pretty at the top of the table. It felt like things were going too well. Surely they had to be due a loss?

Sigrid didn’t put any stock into this nonsense though. They were winning because they were playing well! There was no sense of fate or destiny to it. They were here to win and now everybody knew it.

“Just four games left and it’s in the bag!” Sigrid said excitedly, drying her hair off with a towel.

“Careful Sig, keep your head down. We can’t get cocky on this one,” warned Éowyn.

“Oh come on! We’ve been playing amazingly. You and I both scored today, we deserve to get a little cocky.” She winked, dropping her towel and reaching for her favourite bra. Despite her better judgement Éowyn couldn’t help but laugh.

“That was atrocious Bowman! Come on, you can do way better than that.” She pushed her with her shoulder. “As it happens though, I was planning on going and watching Canada’s match against Ireland. I’d offer for you to tag along too but I’m guessing you’ll have your own plans?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh no I was planning on going down anyway to watch Kíli since Fí—since he, you know Kíli, is a friend of ours. Right?” she coughed, trying to cover up her mistake. Éowyn wasn’t having any of it though and suppressed another grin. She didn’t know whether she should put Sigrid out of her misery and tell her she knew all about Fíli or if she should just let her be and see how it all played out. 

  
“Do you think Tauriel’s gonna be going?” she asked instead.

“What, because of Kíli?”

“Who else? I’m only going to watch Faramir, it would make sense for her to go and see Kíli for the same reason.”

“You really think Tauriel’s shagging the brains out of that poor guy? No way, she’s not the sort. Plus he’s like, ten years younger than her.”

“Age isn’t everything though, and he certainly seems keen.” shrugged Éowyn 

“Yeah but Tauriel? Having tournament sex? Like I said, she’s not the sort.”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be just sex…” suggested Éowyn slowly, “They could just be two people who get on really well, and have similar experiences and just… click. You know? It doesn’t all have to end after two weeks, right?” 

Sigrid blinked at her, a small frown creasing her forehead “Are we still talking about Tauriel here? Or are you having second thoughts about your two-week relationship rule?”

“Let’s just go and watch the game, okay?” mumbled Éowyn, picking up her pace and actively ignoring the question she’d been asking herself these last two days. 

Ireland and Canada were both at the bottom of their table, neither team being all that likely to progress into the quarters. However this was one game that either might just be able to win! It was true that Ireland were higher than Canada in the international league tables, but Canada had more tournament experience and sometimes that was the key to success.

Sigrid and Éowyn managed to coax their way into the stadium for free, picking seats in neutral territory where they could cheer for their respective sides without causing too much of a stir. Sigrid kept her eyes open for Fíli, and spotted him dressed all in green with an Irish flag clasped in his hands. He was talking excitedly to some of the people sitting around him, though Sigrid didn’t recognise a single one of them. One of the men had an uncanny resemblance to the Peredhel twins though.

“You going to go say hi?” asked Éowyn, following her gaze and Sigrid quickly turned back to her friend, unaware that she was blushing.

“No, it’s cool. It looks like it’s family only and I’m just. I’m not family. I’ll say hi after the game.” Éowyn gave her an unconvincing stare  “What?” Sigrid asked defensively.

“Nothing Sig. Nothing.” She shook her head fondly. “Come on, game’s starting. Get ready to cheer.”

Both teams went on and the stadium erupted. Sigrid hadn’t heard passion like it before, both sets of supporters eager to see victory at long last. There weren’t many of them there, especially compared to the GB Games, but everyone there had turned out to support their team just simply for  _ being _ there. It all promised to be a one to remember.

And indeed it was a fantastic game! Ireland scored early on and set the tone for the whole match, shots on goal coming in thick and fast from both teams. Sigrid and Éowyn couldn’t help but give their own running commentary about what was going right and what was going wrong. However the teams were so evenly matched and so willing to fight that spectators couldn’t help but be sucked in. Sigrid watched with baited breath during each short corner, unsurprised to see Kíli run up to take them as well as defend them. When the Irish side scored the wave of green rose up into a fit of screams and the lads all ran over to hug each other. Sigrid instinctively looked over to see what Fíli was doing, seeing as his brother had been the one to assist the goal.  

He was cheering louder than anyone, jumping up and down in his seat and waving his flag like his life depended on it. She’d never seen him so excited, not even about his own games. She’d always thought him quite sedate when it came to hockey. Oh sure at the youth camp she’d seen him cheering and clapping on the kids; but she’d assumed that had been all an exaggeration. It was becoming clear though, that his passion for others was never faked and was always incredibly heartfelt to his core. It was completely endearing and Sigrid’s smile grew wider than she thought possible.

Éowyn in turn had a completely addlepated expression on her face. She seemed genuinely heartbroken with every Irish Goal, her nails being bitten down to stumps. However her scream at Faramir’s goal almost deafened Sigrid. She couldn’t help but snort at her friend’s behaviour. It only served Éowyn right to fall for the man after she’d bent Sigrid’s ear so much about her own Fuck Buddy.

In the end Ireland triumphed over Canada thanks to a particularly amazing goal, which had one of the Irish players legging it down the pitch, desperately sliding across the D on hand and knee to make sure it got in the goal. One of the Canadian players had tried to chase him down but had just landed head first inside the goal itself! Sigrid spotted Kíli at the back with his stick above his head as her cheered on his teammate, his enthusiasm only matched by that of his brother’s back up in the stands.

“Let’s find them and tell them how well they played,” suggested Éowyn, watching Faramir walk off the pitch, his arms wrapped  consolingly around his teammates. They waited in the stands for a moment, letting everyone else file out before heading down to the changing rooms. The Irish team were already inside and you could hear their cheers rebounding around their changing room walls, only slightly muffled by the concrete. Faramir was leaning on the wall of the Canadian changing room, talking to a group of supporters who looked as though they might be family judging from their matching black hair.

“Look here little bro, fuck what dad says. It doesn’t matter what the score is, you still played amazingly. I’m always going to be proud of you, and mate, that was a fucking fantastic goal you scored!”  an Australian accent reassured, and Sigrid thought she recognised the Aussie men’s captain, now pulling Faramir into an apparently affectionate headlock. It was slightly startling to see such an Australian icon decked all out in red and white with a Canadian flag painted across his whole face. The paint had melted slightly, and Sigrid thought that there might have been tear tracks there.

“Your mother would also be proud, that’s for certain,” added another fan, their accent sounding even more English than it would otherwise thanks to the mix around them.

“Honestly Far, you and the boys played so well.” 

Sigrid froze. She knew that voice. She recognised every note, every tone, every pause, its song was like a scar across her heart. She opened her mouth to speak but Éowyn got there first.

“Lothíriel! What the  _ fuck _ are you doing here!”

The group all turned round in shock. Faramir blinked for a second as he tried to frantically assess the situation.

“Éowyn, hello. Did you come to watch the game after all then?” he sounded like he was already trying to change the subject, although there was a note of delight that he couldn’t quite keep at bay.

“Yes of course I did, you twat, but what’s  _ she _ doing here!” she charged forward, looking ready to strike.

“This is my cousin Lolly. I told you about her, remember? She plays hockey for Gondor.”

“Lolly! This is Lolly?” she spluttered. “Oh no, this is no sweet and caring angel this is—“

“Lothí,” said Sigrid, her voice as quiet as a knife through the air. “Why are you here?”

Lothíriel stood up a little straighter. “Hello Sig, it’s good to see you again.”

“No it’s not,” replied Sigrid, stalking towards her. “I told you I never wanted to see you again so why are you here? Especially now.”

“I’m here to support my cousins,” she retorted, “or did you get them in the break up as well?”

“You do not get to play that card with me, Lothí! You were the one who broke  _ my _ heart, and now you come here to the Olympics where you  _ know  _ I’ll be! What made you think I’d be okay with that?”

“I didn’t think you got a choice in the matter. You made me move clubs, practically kicked me out of town and now you want to take the Olympics from me?” she gave out a small chuckle. “Typical Sigrid, always needing to be in control of everything.”

“You’re the one who cheated on me! You’re the one who ended this.  You get  _ no  _ right to say  _ any  _ of those things!” bellowed Sigrid, her voice carrying through the walls, silencing everyone in the building. A few of the Irish players tentatively poked their heads out of their changing room, all thought of celebration halted in favour of watching a fight break loose. 

“Look, can we please not do this here,” hissed Lothíriel. “Not in front of my family, in front of two whole hockey teams and not when I’m wearing sodding antlers!” she cried, grabbing the foam hat from her head and throwing it to the ground.

“Well they’re one step away from horns, I don’t see why you’re so worried about it,” grinned Éowyn, edging closer towards Sigrid.

“Éowyn,” warned Faramir. “Back off, I know you want to support your friend but this isn’t your fight.”

“Of course it’s my fight!” spat Éowyn, rounding on him now. “She fucked _my_ brother behind _my_ best mate’s back. How dare you defend her!”

“I’m defending my cousin because she’s my family and I love her! Whatever is happening between us or between them is no one else’s concern.”

“Sigrid, Éowyn, stop it right now.” came a clipped, authoritative voice from the end of the corridor. Tauriel marched towards them, a grave look on her face as she surveyed the rabble before her. Her long ginger hair was pulled back in a plait with green and white ribbons interwoven into the braid. “You two know better than to behave like this, save your personal problems for when we’re back home.”

“Hey, she’s the one causing the problem here!” snapped Sigrid, pointing at Lothíriel accusingly “If she’d not come here in the first place then--”

“Sigrid, don’t.” Tauriel reiterated. “I told you to sort these problems out before you got here. You both should have,” she added, shifting her penetrating gaze towards Lothíriel, who shifted nervously, trying her hardest not to look at anyone. “Both of you need to go and sort this out. Now. Before it gets any worse. Get some lunch and actually talk.” Her commanding tone silenced any complaint they might have made. Lothíriel nodded her understanding and started to walk away back towards the main park and Sigrid had no choice but to follow on from behind.

“Now, Faramir, you go and see to your team. Your brother’s right, you did play excellently today. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You need to go and tell your team that.” She smiled, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “It’s a captain’s job to look after their team first and their love life second.”

Tauriel stood her ground, waiting for Éowyn to dare respond, but she knew better than to defy her captain. Faramir closed his eyes and composed himself.  “You’re right Tauriel. Thank you. Boromir, Uncle Imrahil, I’ll see you all for drinks later.” He locked eyes with Éowyn who gave him a surly nod of her head, as if sizing him up for a fight.

Kíli stood still leaning out of the doorway to the changing room, mouth open. “Holy shit,” he whispered under his breath, the rest of the Irish team nodding in agreement behind him. You didn’t have to know the involved parties to understand that something big was going down.  

“What’s going on Kí?” asked his brother, coming up to him from out of the stadium door. “I heard shouting, is everyone – shit was that Lothíriel? Sigrid’s ex?”

Kíli nodded, “And Sigrid, by the look of things.”

“And she doesn’t seem too happy about it either,” added Elohir, rather unhelpfully.

“I should go after her,” said Fíli however he was held back by a strong grip on his shoulder. 

“I’d leave it for now if I were you,” Kíli said with a surprising amount of wisdom. “Leave them time to cool off. From experience it’s usually best not to interfere with these things.”

There was a beat as everybody continued to stare at the retreating party. “So are none of you going to acknowledge the fact that Tauriel totally came and watched me play and saw how amazing I was?” 

Fíli and the team all gave out a dramatic groan as Kíli once again began reciting all the amazing things Tauriel had said or done this past week. His words were cut short though, when the woman herself came over. If Fíli hadn’t have known better he’d have thought she was blushing. 

“Hi Kíli, hi everyone, just wanted to let you know you all played really well today. It was a great game to watch, and that second goal?” She looked around to find Tuor, “Best goal of the tournament so far, seriously well done. I’ll um, let you all get back to it now. Speak to you later Kíli?”

“Try and stop me.” His grin was wider than ever it could be, as though her praise was worth more to him than any win. Fíli looked between the pair of them, as Tauriel went to go and walk Éowyn out of the building. He wondered vaguely what it must be like for the two of them, to be falling for someone who they might actually have a shot with in the long term.

~*~

Sigrid sat across from Lothíriel in the café, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her ex was scanning a menu Sigrid had no interest in. She didn’t even know why she’d agreed to follow her to the café. Sigrid growled out her frustrations, five months on and she still couldn’t say no to her. Lothíriel seemed to give up on her pretence and slapped the menu down on the table.

“Okay Sigrid, it’s time we talked.”

“About why you’re here when I explicitly told you I never wanted to see your face anywhere near me again?”

“No, about why you’re still so bitter.”

Sigrid gave her an incredulous look. “Why I’m bitter about the woman I loved cheating on me with the man I considered a brother? Why I’m bitter about having to hear about it from someone else? Why I’m bitter about her showing back up again in the most important two weeks of my life without so much as a word of warning!?”

“Oh you had plenty of warning, Sig. I told you I’d be coming here to see my cousins. You thought I’d just give up on that because of you? You know how much they both mean to me.”

Sigrid kept quiet. She  _ had _ thought Lothíriel would stay away, even with her tickets and flights already booked. Sigrid could see that that was rather unfair now, but it still didn’t take away the sting of the shock she’d had.  Instead she tried a different approach.

“Of course I know what they mean to you, how could I not with you hammering on about them all the time! Borry this and Far that!” She waved her arms in the air, “Like you’d ever let me forget how much more they meant to you than I ever could.”

Lothíriel stared at her, looking offended. When she spoke it was with practiced calm. “I talked about them because I wanted you to feel like you knew them too. I wanted to share my family in the same way you shared yours with me. I spent the first year of our relationship having to play second fiddle to your siblings.  Not that I minded,” she added hastily, “but I wanted you to care about my own family just as much. Which you obviously didn’t,” she sighed.

Sigrid frowned at her. “What do you mean, ‘having to play second fiddle’ to Bain and Tilda? I always made sure to spend time with all three of you!”

“No, you invited me to come round and baby sit with you,” said Lothíriel, a small smile on her face. “I could come and hang out with the three of you but I never had any alone time with just  _ you _ . I thought, I thought when your father married Thranduil and they moved in together you wouldn’t be needed so much. I thought after that we could be a proper couple ourselves.”

“And we were,” Sigrid protested, feeling her heart breaking all over again. “We practically lived together, we spent all our time together! I thought we were happy.”

“Sigrid, living together means a bit more than having my stuff round your house and sleeping in your bed. On that basis you lived with Éowyn as well.”

“Hey, I am not the cheater here,” hissed Sigrid, and Lothíriel ran a hand down her face.

“I know, I know. I messed up. I’m the one in the wrong here, but Sigrid it certainly  _ felt _ like you were cheating too. Not with Éowyn, obviously, but with hockey.”

“You can’t cheat on someone with a sport,” Sigrid said dryly.

“Yes, yes you can. You spent all your time on that pitch. Once you no longer had to spend every second of your day caring for your family you decided to spend it playing hockey instead. When you weren’t training at Rohan with me you were at the GB camp or the Wales camp. Then you decided you wanted to take up coaching! You muttered about short corners and penalty flicks in your  _ sleep _ . Everything we did together had to be worked around  _ your _ match schedules. I felt like I never saw you and when I did you were so exhausted you just collapsed into bed. You never asked me about my day, or what I wanted for dinner, or if you wanted to go out on a date.”

“We went on dates!” spluttered Sigrid indignantly. “Remember that time we went to the theatre to see that actor with the big beard!”

Lothíriel rose a fine eyebrow. “You mean when we went to go and see Sir Fangorn in  _ The Tempest _ . The tickets I got us. That I had to practically drag you to. That you saw whilst still wearing your astro-boots because you came straight from training and arrived just one minute before the start of the play?”

“Erm, yes. That one,” said Sigrid a bit more sheepishly.

“Face it Sigrid, you love hockey more than me. In every sense of the phrase.” She chuckled, pushing her hair behind her ear in a way that used to make Sigrid’s heart flutter.

“That’s not fair…” whispered Sigrid, though she knew it to be true. She felt tears well up in her eyes.  “But none of that doesn’t mean you didn’t break my heart Lothí.”

Lothíriel hung her head, and looked genuinely apologetic. “I know Sig. I told you, I messed up.”

“Why him Lothí? I don’t understand, why Éomer of all people! How did it happen,  _ when _ did it happen?”

Lothíriel smile became a bit brighter and Sigrid felt her heart plummet to the ground. It used to be the smile she had for Sigrid, but now it was all for Éomer. “I’m not sure when exactly, but all I know is that he listened to me. He’d always find me and to say hello at the clubhouse when I was alone. He could tell I wasn’t happy and he just, listened. I know he’s a bit of a lad and I know he’s your stereotypical male hockey player, but he’s still such a sweet guy. He found out that I liked going to those National Theatre Live events and asked if he could come along as a friend. I never told you I went with him because, well because I was worried what you might think.”

“Well, if that’s all you wanted, then why didn’t you just ask  _ me _ to go with you?”

“Because you were always at training.” She laughed, “haven’t you been listening, even now? Anyway, Éomer was friendly and kind and he understood that you and I were going through problems but that I didn’t know how to talk to you about it. He tried to persuade me to do just that, but Sigrid I felt like we were already through. And when I kissed him for the first time, well, I thought to myself that it wasn’t like you’d even notice if you and I broke up.”

“How long.” Sigrid asked at last, staring down at the table. “How long were you two together before I found out?”

Lothíriel hesitated “About a week, maybe. I was going to tell you but, well like I said you didn’t notice so what was the point? It wasn’t like you’d care either way.” 

“Lothí of course I did! Fuck I almost got kicked off the team because of it! I-- that’s how much I cared about you and, and I’m sorry for putting hockey first.” She sniffed, feeling a lump rise up in her throat. She’d had no idea she’d been making Lothíriel feel like she didn’t care, and was realising that maybe that was the way of things. That she had just been a terrible girlfriend and so deserved to be broken.

“Well I guess it’s nice to know you liked me at least a little bit,” smiled Lothíriel, reaching out to take Sigrid’s hand before seeming to think better of it.

“Look,” began Sigrid, running a hand through her hair and looking out at the people making their way through the park. “I don’t actually hate you. I know I’ve said some stuff, today but… you know the more I think about it the more I find I can’t hate you.  So can we maybe try and be friends?” she looked up at her apologetically. “I mean, not right now. Give me time but despite what I may have said about you behind your back, I don’t  _ actually  _ want you to drown in a vat of fermented sheep urine.”

“What a charming thought,” Said Lothíriel with a trademark eyebrow raise, but her grin was real this time. “And yeah, friends. I’d like that. Just, let me know when you’re ready.” She stood up and made her way around to where Sigrid was sitting, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I promised Boromir I’d watch his match too. Good luck Sigrid, don’t make our relationship come to an end for nothing, alright? See you later.” She squeezed her shoulder slightly and walked away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not late! Totally still Saturday in my Time Zone and many many others...
> 
> Busy mad cap day. Sorry. 
> 
> We won our game though! 12-0! And I still got to see some action. Took someone out by the ankles at the top of the D ^^
> 
> See you next saturday =D


	11. Players must not intimidate or impede another player

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Playing with people makes me happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if the last chapter came into people's inboxes or not or if people are just losing interest in general and that's why there was only one comment last week... but if you missed chapter 10 then make sure to read it as this chapter follows straight on ^___^

Fíli left Sigrid alone for most of the day, focusing instead on congratulating his brother and preparing for his game against Spain. However he still worried about her, he knew that their entire relationship was built up on how Sigrid wasn’t over Lothíriel. He knew how much her being here could throw Sigrid, he couldn’t bear the idea of everything she’d fought for these last four years being snatched away from her due to such a small thing. He had to find her and do… anything. Whether that meant being a shoulder to cry on or something more akin to their usual arrangement.

He nervously made his way up to her apartment, thinking that even if she wasn’t there, Éowyn would know where to find her. It might reveal the true nature of their relationship but at least he’d know if she was all right. He went to put his key into the slot and spotted something that made his heart drop. There was a red hockey sock on the handle. Through the door he heard deep breaths and suppressed groans beneath the noise of a bed slamming against a wall. He was surprised he’d not heard it earlier.

It made sense though; Lothíriel and her had been together for three years. It was probably good that they’d made up and it wasn’t like Sigrid had ever promised to be exclusive with him! Fíli shook his head, he was honestly happy for her. He would just go back to his own room, try to get some sleep and focus on his game against--

“YES Éowyn, fuck-- yes!” shouted a deep voice. Fíli jumped at how loud it was. He looked back down at the sock on the door and saw the white-striped trim and tiny maple leaf that marked it as one of the Canadian socks. Okay, that made more sense. There was another slamming noise and a loud shriek. Fíli quickly backed away from the door like it held a disease and barrelled straight into a solid column of muscle.

“Hello Fíli.” Said the column, “I suppose you’re here looking for Sigrid?”

Fíli looked up to see a lined and pleasant face with deep, serious eyes. “Oh, hey Galadriel. I didn’t know you were here!”

“Of course I’m here. I come every year. More importantly though is the fact that no one’s seen Sigrid since the Ireland game. She did not respond well to Lothíriel’s return. We all know the consequences that could cause.” She gave him a levelling look and Fíli felt like he was being gifted a very serious task.

“I know, I mean, I heard that she--”

“When she was a teenager she would always go to the nearest pitch when she needed to think,” continued Galadriel, placing a hand on his shoulder before moving away again, humming a gentle unknown tune.

Fíli blinked after her. Galadriel was just one of those people who could appear out of nowhere with words of unwanted wisdom. It was spooky to see her here, but she  _ had _ had a hand in the coaching of half the hockey players here and not just amongst the British; plus wasn’t she related to the Peredhil twins? Though that wouldn’t explain why she was here right now in the GB Apartments… He hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out what was really going on but the idea that Sigrid might need him played too heavy on him. Before he realised it he was jogging down to the stadium to find her. If she didn’t want him there then that was fine, he was used to that by now. However he had to offer his help in anyway he could, it was in his nature.

~*~

Sigrid lay back on the dry astro looking up at the night sky, one towel beneath her and another rolled up for a pillow. There were a few clouds dotting about but she could still see the stars shining brightly. They were a whole new set to her. The seven sisters were off on holiday, the plough moved on to pastures new and ursa minor was curled up and deep in hibernation. Her mam had taught her that no matter where she went she could always find the North Star to help her home. It wasn’t such a stupid comment, they lived in the north of town so all she had to do was follow the star and she’d find the streets she knew. However where was that star now? Where were those streets with their red brick walls and broken paving stones? She felt further away than ever she had, and right now the only place that felt like home was the centre of the D.

Every pitch had its own idiosyncrasies, bobbles and bumps, thin patches from where it had worn away and lines that had almost faded completely. However they were still all 91.4 metres long and 55 meters wide. There were two thick lines marked 22.9 meters from the backline with two 2.14 metre by 3.66 metre goals. It didn’t matter where you went in the world, those basic rules would stay the same. That was where her home was and that had been the problem, hadn’t it?

Of course her  _ true _ home would always be with her family, but Lothíriel had been right, now that they had Thranduil they didn’t need her anymore. Thranduil earned more than enough to keep them well looked after, but more importantly he made her da smile in a way Sigrid hadn’t seen him do since her mother died. Da didn’t need her following after him making sure he got enough sleep at night; Tilda didn’t need her to walk her to school everyday or help her with homework and Bain-- well Bain was seventeen now and any help she gave him would be ignored anyway.

So without her family in need of her she’d fallen back to the only other thing she knew and that was hockey. It provided her with everything else she needed in life: an occupation, exercise, food on her plate and something one could consider a social life. Yet it was the very same thing that had driven away her girlfriend, could she ever find someone else if the only place she ever felt like herself was within a rectangle?

“Sigrid, is that you out there?”

She sat bolt upright and looked around. She wasn’t technically meant to be out here, but there’d been nobody about and it wasn’t like anyone else was going to be using the pitch this time of night.

“Sigrid it’s me, Fíli!” he called again.

“Fíli! What are you doing here?” she squinted into the dark and she could just make out his golden hair and the white of his shirt over by the barriers.

“Galadriel said you were out here and I... I don’t know, I thought I’d come and see if you were alright?”

“Galadriel?” she shouted back. “Gala’s here? Really?”

“Yep,” came his response. “I’ll tell you all about it if you let me join you.” She could almost hear his beautiful smile.

“Come over then you great lump.” She laughed, taking the towel out from behind her head and laying it down for him. He didn't bother finding the gate and just clambered over the barriers with a surprising amount of grace for one so stocky. He lay down next to her and folded his arms behind his head, looking up at her with a cheeky smile she could finally completely make out.

“So, what’s a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Are you really trying to chat me up right now?” she grinned propping herself up on her elbow as she looked down at him where he lay.

“Just trying to start a conversation.” He shrugged, tipping his head to the side to look her in the eye.

“Well I guess you could say I’m here because I’m hiding.” She sighed, flopping back down on her back and copying his pose, her eyes still looking up at the unknown sky.

“Not hiding very well if even I could find you.”

“Yes, well, I’m very predictable. Plus Gala told you were to find me, and she knows everything.”

“She does indeed,” nodded Fíli solemnly. “Like, for example, that you’re not feeling great after Lothíriel made her surprise appearance and that, maybe you might want to talk about it?”

“Very subtle Fí.” She rolled her eyes. “I-- it’s not seeing her that’s got me out here, it’s what she said.” She mumbled, glancing away from him and into the dark of the night once more.

“And what did she say?” prompted Fíli after she’d kept silent for too long.

“The truth. That I’m responsible for our break up because I’m too obsessed with hockey, probably too obsessed with myself.”

“What?” spluttered Fíli. “She cheats on you and then blames everything on hockey! Sounds like you’re best rid of her, Sig.”

“No, no it wasn’t like that she, she says she’s sorry about cheating on me and it wasn’t right but well… I wasn’t innocent. I didn’t spend as much time with her as I should have, but, but hockey is just important to me Fí, you understand that right?” she pleaded, turning to face him and finding his loving gaze.

“Yeah. I understand. We dedicate our lives to this, we can’t expect our partners to do the same, but that doesn’t mean you deserve what happened to you.”

“No, it’s not just that though it’s…” she flung her head back, hitting the astro harder than she’d expected. Fíli grinned at her surprise grunt of pain and Sigrid just rolled her eyes at him once more. “I mean, hockey means more to me than just a sport. It’s, well it’s all I had for a long time.” She hesitated, uncertain how to explain herself further. But Fíli kept quiet, waiting for her to say something or nothing at all. She bit her lip and decided to start at the beginning.

“My family weren’t hockey players like yours were. I’m the first in my family to pick up a stick and I did that at school. We had a big lumpy all purpose field that had football lines in the winter and cricket lines in the summer and somewhere in between we’d plot out where the hockey ones might be. Our sticks were wooden and were held together with gaffer tape but something about the game really stuck with me. I can’t explain it, I don’t think anyone ever can, but it just felt right. So, I joined the after school club, and one day they were handing out adverts for the local league level club and I decided to sign up.

“We were poor though, really poor. But I wanted to play and so my parents found the money for me to join. They agreed upon a monthly payment system with the club rather than a yearly subscription. My parents picked up extra shifts, we cut back on a few things and so I spent every Saturday being ferried around the county violently hitting at a spherical object and elbowing other eleven year olds in the ribs. It turned out I was good at it. Hitting the ball, not elbowing the other girls. Although my coach would have told you otherwise!”

Fíli laughed, imaging a young Sigrid getting carded for shoving someone to the floor. He’d seen her do it as an adult when things got a bit desperate, he imagined she would have been even worse as a kid.

“Anyway,” continued Sigrid, ignoring Fíli’s continued chuckling. “I got noticed. Galadriel was a talent scout and she got me a try out for county.”

“Which you naturally shone at and got onto the squad no questions asked,” added Fíli, a sense of pride rising up in him for her long-ago success. When he’d tried out for county at that age, he’d never been certain if he’d gotten in on his own merits or because his uncle was the head coach.

“Which I naturally shone at and got onto the squad no questions asked.” Sigrid nodded wisely. Then her smirk diminished slightly, “I was fourteen then. I’d never considered taking hockey to that level before. It felt amazing, I was glued to the Olympics that year, Athens– not our best-ever performance but I knew I wanted to be there,  _ that’s _ what I wanted to do with my life.”

Fíli moved his hand to rest just gently next to hers, in case she needed it. He could sense that there was more to this story than just your average Olympian start up.

“I managed it. I was fifteen and life was great! I’d made it onto the Welsh Youth Squad and it felt  _ incredible _ . I was one step closer to achieving my dreams. Bejing felt like a real possibility for me and not just a fantasy. Then,” she said slowly, “Mam died.”

Her words filled the night sky and hung there. She’d cried so many tears over her mam over the last ten years she felt like she didn’t have any left within her.

“I didn’t want to do anything at all after that. I didn’t show up to training, or matches, I barely went to school to be honest. Galadriel found out and came storming round to my house to see what was wrong. She knew Mam had died and all of that, but she didn’t want that to be the reason I stopped playing you know? Not after all she knew my family had sacrificed to get me to where I was. Da was surprised to see her, he thought I’d still been going to training, see? He was too busy with work and Tilda and everything that he didn’t have the time to notice I was leaving the house to spend three hours a week sitting in the park having a sob.”

The image made Fíli ache. His heart broke apart at the idea of her feeling as though she didn’t have anywhere else to go to or anyone to share her pain with. He knew the feeling so well, and he wondered what would have happened if he’d been there to bear it with her. He wished he could have, but you couldn’t turn back time so all he could do was let her know he was here for her right now. He prompted her to continue, to let it all out at long last.

“So how did your dad react?”

“Well, I thought he’d blow his top off but he just sat there crying. It was a hundred times worse. I told them I wanted to quit, focus on school all of that bull shit but Gala wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Well no surprise there,” grinned Fíli. “Not sure she’s ever allowed anyone to step away from the path she’s set for them.”

“Well exactly,” chuckled Sigrid, and the sound of it felt like Fíli’s greatest success.

She continued on with her story, her tone a lot lighter than it had been before.

“Gala ended up accompanying me to every training session. She paid my subs for the club; bought me any new equipment I needed, even forced her granddaughter to babysit for us!” she laughed, remembering how Galadriel would drop Arwen off when she came to pick up Sigrid. Arwen hadn't been all too impressed at first until she realised she could bring her boyfriend with her. 

There was so much more to it all though, and now Sigrid had started to talk she found she couldn’t stop. For some reason she felt like she needed Fíli to know all of this, and he miraculously seemed to want to know it as well.

“At first I was angry at being made to play you know? I just wanted to mourn my mother and forget about everything else, yet the more I played the less I hurt. It made me remember all the times we’d spent together eating bacon butties after training and spending hours stuck in traffic praying we’d make it to the match on time! My grades picked up at school too, my coaches and my teammates were all so supportive and it gave me a new kind of focus.

“So, what I guess I’m saying is that hockey isn’t just a sport to me. Lothí was right, hockey  _ is _ my life, but it’s that way for a reason. When I had nothing I had hockey, and so,” she sniffed, hating how emotional she was getting over this. “So hearing Lothí tell me I loved it more than her, that I spent too much time playing… I don’t know. It’s making me question a lot of things. Stuff I shouldn’t be questioning in the middle of the night on an Olympic hockey pitch.”

Fíli didn’t know how to respond. Their experiences felt so different and yet he still completely understood in a way he couldn’t explain. When his dad died he’d found himself drawn into hockey all the more. Unlike Sigrid, the game wasn’t filled with memories of his father, quite the opposite, but it had given him something to focus on. He could pour all his grief and pain into the pitch and come back out to face the world. However Víli had died almost fifteen years ago and he no longer needed that escape.

He twisted onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow, not minding how hard the pitch was.

“Sig, you haven’t done  _ anything _ wrong here. Hockey means different things to different people, and that’s why we have different leagues and teams. Lothíriel, she has a different experience of it right? Hockey’s just a hobby for her but for you it’s a way of life. I bet if you spoke to every single team here they’d say the same thing about themselves. You’ve put a lot into being here, years of work and pain. Don’t let her ruin it for you Sigrid.”

“But, is it right for me to have all of this? I’ve poured my whole life into this game and I can’t help but wonder if it’s all been for nothing…”

“Are you happy?” asked Fíli, seriously. “When you get out there and play are you happy?”

Sigrid blinked at him, she’d never really thought of it before if she was honest. Hockey was something that occupied her whole life, it was a part of her. She couldn’t decide what that meant. She tried to mull it over, grateful for his silence whilst she thought.

“I mean, sometimes it makes me miserable but on the whole, yes, I think it makes me happy. Or at least content, which is probably enough.” She smiled, twisting onto her side and copying his pose. “What about you? Does it make you happy?”

Fíli hesitated, it had been something he’d been asking himself for over a year now. He’d never questioned any of it before. Hockey was just… a part of him. He’d spent his whole life on a hockey pitch. There were photos out there of his mother breast-feeding him at halftime during an international match she’d insisted on playing. His first hockey stick had been given to him as soon as he’d learnt how to walk and there was fuzzy home video of him tapping the ball into a goal with his dramatically lamenting Uncle Frerin playing keeper.

“Playing with people makes me happy.” He said at last. “I only started because it’s just what my family did. Your parent was a Durinson, you played hockey. When they call us hockey royalty they’re not exactly wrong.” He scoffed, remembering all the headlines that had dogged him over the years. “So, I didn’t have a choice about it really, I definitely don’t like the pressure I’m under. I, well I’ve got to live up to everyone’s expectations-- and even if I do succeed it’ll just get taken for granted and if I don’t succeed it’s like I’ve let down every single person who’s come before me.” he shook his head “I’m proud of my family’s history, but it doesn’t make life easy.”

“So, are you saying you want to stop?” asked Sigrid carefully.

“No! Maybe. I don’t know.” he sighed. “All I  _ do _ know is that, I have no clue who I would be without hockey either. Which I suppose isn’t exactly a bad thing, but well. I guess when I think about it, I want everyone else to succeed more than I do myself!” he scratched his neck, somehow feeling embarrassed by his own honesty. “Not sure what any of that says about me.”

“It says that you’re a good, kind and decent man who’s probably a far better person than anyone else here.” Sigrid smiled. He truly was magnificent. There was so much to him and yet he felt like the most straightforward person to ever exist. He knew when to listen and he knew when to talk. He understood her need for space yet wouldn’t allow her to ever feel like she was alone.

His face was so close to hers now, the warm darkness surrounding them like a soft cloak. For some reason it made Sigrid feel fourteen years old again, sitting with Gavin Cooper behind the tent on the last day of the year 9 camping trip.

She hesitated, as she edged her head towards him. He copied her and there was a nervous, wavering tension between them. After everything they’d done together, all the kisses they’d shared, it shouldn’t feel as important a moment as it did. It was as though whatever choice Sigrid’s heart was about to make would impact her for the rest of her life. The thought made her brave and moved her to close the gap between them when the hiss of the sprinklers erupted into life.

The noise broke their moment and a second later they were hit with the full force of the water cannon. They both let out an undignified scream and leapt apart. Sigrid’s dress and Fíli’s shirt were stuck tight to them and they tried to run away from the spray, but then the second cannon started up and they became trapped.

“This is our punishment isn’t it!” shrieked Fíli as another arc of water hit him painfully across his chest.

“For what!” asked Sigrid, grabbing his hand to pull him away from the spray as they raced to clamber over the barrier and escape the jets.

“For sneaking out here, for upsetting the hockey gods by desecrating their grounds,” laughed Fíli. “I mean remember the last time we were alone on a pitch?”

“How could I forget! Best night of my life.”

Fíli stopped in his tracks just before the barrier. “Really?” 

Sigrid thought about it as she climbed over, it had been a pretty good day; watching the kids train, laughing with the other coaches and making friends with someone she now couldn’t imagine being without. It had definitely the best orgasm she’d had all year, well, up to that point at least.

“Yeah, I think it was.” She grinned, helping him climb over to join her. Fíli’s smile lit up the night brighter than any star. Sigrid squeezed his hand tight in hers. “Come on, let’s get back to the village and dry you off. You’ve got an important game in the morning and pneumonia won’t help you win.”

They held hands all the way back to the village without even realising it. With Fíli beside her the sky didn’t seem so much of a stranger, and she started to enjoy the change in scenery. Neither of them had any idea what these constellations were called, but they had fun making up their own names, creating whole stories to link them together about dragons and mountains and long running rivers. It helped distract them from the wet cling of their clothes, the warm night air not quite enough to dry them off.

When they got back there were graciously few athletes hanging about in the lobby, and those who were, were a bit preoccupied with their own love lives to notice two soggy hockey players holding hands.

Fíli walked her back to the room, neither realising that they’d taken the stairs just to make the night last that little bit longer. It was late, and there was still that slight tingle in the air that promised magic and romance.

“Well, I guess this is good night at last,” Fíli said sadly, as they stood outside her room.

“Well, it is almost technically morning, and you do have a match tomorrow. It wouldn’t be fair of me to keep you to myself.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to let go of his hand just yet though, and she glanced forlornly at her door. She frowned. There was still a red sock on the handle.

“I’ve been sexiled,” she said with a note of surprise.

“Well by the sound of it they’re probably done.  I came up earlier,” he explained, “to see if you were alright and um, well Éowyn’s not exactly quiet, is she?”

“There’s a reason we call her the Rider of Rohan.” Sigrid nodded wisely, still somewhat in admiration of her friend. “Éowyn’s not one to just forget to kick someone out of bed though. This is either revenge, or a sign that she’s got further plans for him.”

“Well,” Fíli began carefully, “If Nori’s not about I don’t mind putting a sock on my own door. No funny business mind, I’ll even give you pyjamas.”

Sigrid paused; they’d said they wouldn’t spend the night together like that. However what other choice did she  _ have _ ? Her dress was still soaking wet, it wasn’t like she could just nap on the sofas downstairs, and everyone else she knew was probably fast asleep or else taking a leaf out of Éowyn’s book. She heaved a little sigh.

“Alright Fí, you win. I’ll stay with you. Thanks.” She added, giving him a small smile.

“Entirely my pleasure.” He beamed, taking her hand and swinging it slightly as they made their way back to his room. It was only a bed for the night, what was the worst that could happen? It was like Lothíriel had said, sharing a bed didn’t mean they were a couple!

Sleep came surprisingly easy that night, curled up together on top of the sheets with the window wide opened to let in the air. As Sigrid drifted off, she wondered vaguely why they didn’t do this more often. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2-3 loss today for us, but I made some good saves and we all played some great hockey. Would have been better if our defensive sub hadn't gone at it too hard the night before and actually bothered to show up to the game so people wouldn't be so tired.... but c'est la vie etc.
> 
> Also I got my knee POUNDED in training on wednesday and I now have a bruise there the size of my palm. Good Times man good times....


	12. A ball is considered dangerous when it causes legitimate evasive action by players.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It really is just about sex.

Sigrid woke up to the gentle beep of an alarm, nothing so loud it penetrated her dreams, but just enough to stir her into wakefulness. She didn’t feel as stiff or as tired as she usually would have, indeed it was the best night’s sleep she’d had in months. Fíli’s flannel shirt felt soft on her skin and his broad bare chest made a surprisingly good pillow. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he too began to wake. Their legs were tucked up together, their breathing seemed to have synchronised and everything felt… no. No no no no no.

Panic rose up in Sigrid. This felt so… but no this was wrong. It  _ had _ to be wrong.

“Morning.” mumbled Fíli, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head causing Sigrid to flinch.

“Yep. Same,” she clipped, pulling away and patting him on the chest. “Thanks for the bed, got to run though. Match to train for and all that. Can’t let the Americans win!”

“It’s 7am, surely there’s no rush. Stay a little while longer,” he grinned, reaching for her hand. “Last time we woke up together we got interrupted. Let’s enjoy it a bit more this time.”

“Ha ha ha! No McBuri, not this time either. I’ve got to go and train and you need to prepare as well! I wouldn’t want to be the reason you lost your match now!”

“Sigrid, are you alright?” he frowned, pulling himself up to a sitting position. “You’re being a bit, odd…”

“No I’m not, mate! I’m just your friend, and as your friend I care about your match because we’re friends, Friend!” she laughed, trying to calculate how many times she could say ‘friend’ without it getting weird.

“Right…” he said, still unconvinced. “Do you want a cup of tea or something? Nori stole a kettle from, well I didn’t ask where-- but we’ve got a kettle.”

“Ah, no. Like I said, got to run! Need to have a shower and all that.” She climbed backwards out of the bed, trying to appear casual and failing miserably.

“Well we’ve got a perfectly good one here.” He shrugged. “I’ve used yours, seems only fair to return the favour.”

“No, no, don’t want to erm, use up all the hot water!” She edged towards the balcony, hoping to grab her dress. It should be dry by now, it should be – crap.

“Looks like it must have rained in the night.” Commented Fíli, getting out of bed to go and exam his own clothes.

“Right, well, okay then.” She said slightly weakly, “I guess it’ll only be for a minute, I can wear it wet!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffed Fíli, stilling her hand. “just keep my shirt and return it later on. Most people round here perform in their underwear, they’re not going to blink if you’re just wearing a shirt so long as all necessary areas are covered.” He laughed, reaching round to cup her arse. She gave a nervous giggle and reminded herself that staying was a bad idea. Not just bad, the worst idea ever imaginable.

“Right, okay then.” She repeated, “I’ll grab the rest of my stuff and get out of your hair.”  She pulled away from him and ignored the confused hurt on his face. She wanted more than anything to stay here with him in this room, and that was exactly why she needed to leave.

Fíli walked her to the door and he hovered there, expecting a goodbye kiss like all the other times they’d done this, but all Sigrid could do was clap him on the shoulder. “See you later buddy!” she grinned and marched down the corridor back to her own room.

Fíli watched her go with a look of concern. Had something happened last night that he wasn’t aware of? Had he said something to upset her? As far as he could see he’d done nothing out of the ordinary.  Sure last time she’d been a bit freaked at having accidentally woken up together but this time it had all been planned. She’d been the first one to fall asleep, her arm circling round his stomach as she sleepily snuggled against his shoulder. She’d looked peaceful and content, as though nothing was bothering her at all, even after the shake up Lothíriel had given her.

When she got back to her room, Sigrid had ended up having to wait outside what felt like an age before being allowed back in. She’d forgotten how fond Éowyn was of morning sex, and it seemed that Faramir was just an enthusiastic. He’d blushed brilliantly when he’d opened the door to find her sitting on the floor and quickly grabbed his sock before racing down the corridor. Éowyn waved after him, still wrapped up in her towel from their apparent joint shower. Sigrid rose to her feet and gave her an all too bright grin before heading on in.

“Didn’t expect you back so early,” remarked Éowyn with a tone of surprise. “I didn’t take him as the type to kick a girl out of bed.”

“Who said anything about being kicked out of bed?” Sigrid replied rather indignantly.

“Nothing, but that shirt isn’t yours and that dress in your hands is soaking wet, so I figured you must have spent the night elsewhere. Also you’ve been shagging that fuck buddy of yours every night this week. Doesn’t take a genius Sig.” she shrugged, making a start on combing out the tangles in her hair.

“Well, nothing like that happened at all. I spent the night at Dagní’s  _ actually _ . This is one of hers.” She lied easily. Dagní wore a lot of plaid, it wasn’t out of the ordinary that she might have an extra shirt lying about. However Éowyn wasn’t buying a moment of it. She was also too tired of it all to want to question her any further.

“Whatever Sigrid, you live your life however you want to. Go have a shower and I’ll see you down at breakfast.”

Sigrid had tried desperately to get Dagní to back up her story and prove Éowyn wrong, however she’d steadfastly refused. “I don’t want anything to do with your drama. Come back to me when you want help burying a body.” She replied, viciously slapping red-currant jam onto her toast.

It made for an uneasy day for Sigrid. She was worried that Éowyn had somehow found out that it was Fíli she was shagging and not some random athlete. She was worried about what it  _ meant _ that she was worried about what Éowyn would think. She was worried about why she was so eager to see Fíli again in a way that had nothing to do with sex. She worried what would happen to them once the tournament was over. It was still looking unlikely that the men would qualify for the quarters, but Sigrid couldn’t dampen that glimmer of hope within her that he might make it through and they could continue seeing one another.

She tried to convince herself that this really was just all about sex. It was just some harmless fun between friends, harmless being the operative word. However the more she thought on their relationship the more things seemed to fall apart within her. Everyone saw it, and concerned gossip spread through the camp like smoke. None of them were fools, having joined the dots way before Sigrid had.

Tauriel watched despondently as Sigrid’s game began to collapse just as it had when Lothíriel had left her. She was forced to, once again, pull Sigrid aside in the changing room after training.

“Look Sig, I know your heads not in the right place, and I know Lothí coming back came as quite the shock…” she tailed off, testing Sigrid’s reaction. She stiffened, her nostrils flaring but it had none of the raging sadness of before, simply the awkward tension always bought up by the memory of a messy ex. Tauriel choose her next words carefully.

“I’m sorry for being so harsh on you at the time, but I really need you to sort yourself out Sigrid. We all need you ready for our quarterfinal. Do whatever needs to be done, take the time tonight to work this all through. Talk to whoever it is that’s shaken you—“

“—Nobody’s shaken me, that’s—“

“—I am far too old for any of that Sig. Talk to them. Sort this out and once you have,” she gripped her shoulders tight, “come and help us in avenging our fallen brethren.”

Sigrid shook her head at her age-old set up. “I’m not saying it Tau.”

She looked at Sigrid with her keen green gaze, the same gaze that made goalkeepers weak at the knees and terrified umpires into submission. Sigrid heaved a sigh.

“The British are coming.”

“Damn right they are.” Tauriel grinned, clapping her on the shoulder.

“You know as a Welshwoman I am morally obliged to support anyone against the English rule?”

“Whatever you say, Sheep Shagger. Now get on with you, and remember,  _ talk _ to them.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes, muttering about The Bloody English under her breath, but made her way back to her room nonetheless.

“Sheep, really?” asked Pearl, coming up behind Tauriel and leaning against the wall. “That’s not a very nice thing to call Fíli.”

“Shut up Pearl and practice that foot work. I don’t want anymore fouls thanks to your size tens.”

“Hey, that’s just mean! Rosie’s are bigger anyway.”

“That’s what she said!” sang Tar from across the room to raucous cheers and a slightly put out Rosie. Well, she’d given birth to triplets, things were bound to change after that.

~*~

Sigrid took the time to consider her options and came to the conclusion that the best way to solve them was to fuck Fíli one last time. Take them back to where they’d begun, cut off their connection and make it all about sex once more. That’s what fuck buddies were meant to be all about. Plus did you really need to know someone before you took them to bed? It worked well enough for Éowyn and Idril, why shouldn’t it work for her as well?

All thoughts of this went out of her mind when she saw him though. He looked so small standing in the doorway to her room, his smile the saddest she’d ever seen.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where else to go…”  He tailed off, thinking about how off she’d been earlier. “I mean, I can leave if you want I just… I don’t know. You’re probably busy anyway I’ll just let you be. ”

“Don’t!” she reached out to grab his hand as he turned away, pulling him back towards her. “Come on, sit down, what happened?” It must have been something awful. His face was drawn tight, his arms wrapped around himself and his hair a damp mess of tangles. He’d pulled it into a bun, but it was still barely kept in place, looking as though he’d been running his fingers through it as soon as he’d tied it up. “Is it Kíli, has something happened to him?”

Fíli gave out a huff of laughter. “For once this has nothing to do with my brother. No, I—surely you heard?” he looked at her hopefully but she just shook her head, they’d been at the training ground all day and they were still on a strict social media ban. Fíli gave a sigh and took the offered seat on her bed. “Our last ditch hope didn’t come through. We drew. We’re going home Sig, didn’t even make it to the quarters.”

Sigrid’s grip on his hand tightened. “I’m so sorry Fí. That’s… I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He shrugged. “I’m the one who should have done something… been a better defender, made more of our opportunities to score. Trained harder, done more for the team and not let everything get to me. I should have been a better player all round. Fuck, what must everyone back home be thinking right now…” He trailed off again, looking into his hands as though they might hold an answer to it all. It was so  _ him  _ that in everything happening he’d be worried what his family would think. She knew he longed for their approval, even though she knew he would always have it.

“Fíli, listen to me,” began Sigrid, turning his head to face her and looked into his eyes. There were deep lines surrounding them, and they’d been smudged red from crying which just made the blue of them stand out all the harder. It made her brain pull to a stop, uncertain if she could find any words to help him. If she were in his position she would be much the same, broken apart and on the verge of collapse.

She pulled him into a fierce hug, and he stiffened for a second before returning it. He clung to her, silently burying his head into her shoulder as she kissed his cheek. Sigrid never wanted him to stop holding her; she wanted to always be there for him… the thought scared her. However she pushed it down, squeezing him harder than ever.

“Sorry.” He repeated, letting her go and shifting away. “I know that you don’t want to have to deal with all my shit I just—well you make me feel better about myself, Sig, and I just, thanks.” He grinned and there was a hint of it in his eyes but she could still tell that things were still not right with him.

“Come on, let’s get you sorted.” She smiled, pushing strands of hair behind his ear. “Your hair’s such a mess. You don’t fix that soon and you’ll be working out the tangles out for the rest of your life.”

“Wait, what?” he frowned his sadness forgotten in the wake of sudden confusion.

“Well I don’t know about you, but getting my hair done always makes me feel better about myself, and there’s not exactly a hairdresser around here is there?”

“Nori’s actually a trained stylist.” He replied, still not understanding what was going on but was too tired to protest and she lead him into the bathroom.

“Well, lucky for me, Nori isn’t here.” She grinned, setting the shower on and waiting for it to get to the right temperature. “Come on, off, can’t get clean if you’re still wearing clothes.”

“What is it with you and wanting to get me out of my clothes?” he said, his usual joking tone back in his voice now that they were on familiar ground.

“Well, I just think that they always look so much better on my floor.” She shrugged, tugging at his t-shirt and pulling it over his head. He laughed and this time it was real. The steam from the shower was filling the room, cleansing his mind and clearing his lungs. Sigrid tugged off her own shirt and threw her bra to the side, it surprised Fíli by how normal it all felt. She was as beautiful as ever, but something in her pose made it all feel as though this was just an everyday activity unrelated to sex. She tested the water with her hand, and indicated for him to take off the rest of his clothes and get in. He happily complied, once again glad of the distraction on what could have been one of the worst days of his career, were it not for Sigrid.

He stepped into the spray, closing his eyes and letting it wash over him. Sigrid was right, he’d not exactly had the most thorough of post-match showers. He’d mainly just stood there until everyone else had left and he could finally let go, being able to kid himself that the drops of water on his face were really just from the shower. There was a bruise on his knuckles from where he’d thrown a punch against the wall.

He didn’t have long to reflect on this though as Sigrid quickly stepped in behind him, linking their fingers together. He leant back into her on instinct, enjoying the rolling comforting warmth. They stood there together for a minute, their breathing slowly syncing.

Sigrid then carefully undid his bun, pulling the tie around her own wrist and began to tenderly run her hands through his hair, spreading it against his back. She began to thoughtfully separate the strands, gently undoing the more obvious knots.

Fíli thought he’d never felt more relaxed than he had in this moment. Sigrid began to softly apply shampoo, delicately massaging it into his hair. Her fingers were light and sure and he couldn’t help the contented moan that came out of him, as he closed his eyes and became absorbed into her touch.

Sigrid smiled fondly at him, feeling bubbles of affection rise up within her and fill her whole body. She had to steady him with a hand on his chest to stop him from leaning so far back that they crashed into the walls of the shower. It was already a tight fit as was, not that either of them minded so much. Fíli instinctively clasped her hand in his own, and she could feel the slow steady beat of his heart. She couldn’t help but press a kiss to his cheek as she carefully pushed him back into the water, washing the suds out of his hair with a steady hand.

“Mmmm, you’re good at this you know.” He hummed as she began to smooth in the conditioner.

“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Oh.” murmured Fíli, not sure what he was expecting her answer to be. That he was the first person she’d done this for? That he was somehow special in all this. She’d been with Lothíriel for years, after all. Surely they must have showered together like this at least once…

“I mean,” continued Sigrid, sensing his distress, “not in the naked private shower sense, this I do all for you.”  She laughed, her fingers in his hair as steady and as sure as ever. “But sometimes it’s nice to have someone else do your hair, like Éowyn or Tilda or whoever.”

“You shower with your sister?!” Fíli blurted out in shock, suddenly this whole thing was feeling a lot less wonderful.

“No you idiot, of course not! But I’ve done my fair share of bath times when she was younger, and it’s easier for someone else to get the tangles out of your hair than for you to do it. Kids you know, they’re always getting in a mess. Surely you’ve done Kíli’s hair before?”

“True, True. And yeah, when he lost his marbles and tried to dye his hair blonde without bleaching it, I was the one who had to help him it get back to normal.” Sigrid winced slightly.

“Don’t tell me, bright orange?”

“He looked like a tiger. Massive black streaks that he’d missed and everything.” He laughed and again, this whole experience felt like it went beyond everything they’d done together before. It was so intimate, and pure, and the fact that they were both naked was simply incidental. 

“I guess he just wanted to look like his cool older brother,” she suggested, picking up a comb from the pot in the shower and beginning to slowly run it through his hair.

“Na, I think it was to look more like Dad. Or to impress whoever his latest crush was. It was hard to keep up with him when he was fourteen. Hard to keep up with him now, to be honest.”

“Ah, they grow up so fast,” grinned Sigrid, and Fíli could only nod his response.

They shifted into a contented silence as Sigrid focussed on getting rid of all the knots he’d worked into his hair. He felt as though she was untangling the ones within himself too and soon all his worst memories and fears were gone. He didn’t have the energy to care about what his uncle would say. It didn’t matter what his mother might think, or what the press would make of it all. He was happy and at peace and that was all thanks to Sigrid.

“There,” she said, as she washed away the last of the conditioner and turned the shower off “You’re all done.” She kissed the top of his head and he turned back around to face her properly, loosely wrapping his arms around her.

“Thank you.” He smiled, reaching up to give her a light kiss. It was so brief and casual yet it made sparks fly throughout her, bursting apart like fireworks. She hesitated for a moment, and then let instinct take over as she ignored the part of her brain reminding her that she was meant to be taking a step back from things. She bent her mouth to meet with his, brushing their lips together, lingering slightly as she let the touch echo through her.

Neither of them moved from where they were, the last drips from the shower splashing down onto them unnoticed. Fíli reached his hand up to cup her face and she closed her eyes as she melted into him. His hands were warm and made her feel safe. He moved one down to sit at the small of her back as he pulled her towards him once more, their mouths coming together with a bit more heat this time.

Sigrid sucked on his top lip and he mirrored her, moving his fingers round to stroke through her hair. She gave a light groan at the sensation and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue across her lips. She gripped tightly onto his hips just to steady herself and met his tongue with hers, caressing and licking and just trying to get that little bit closer together. They groaned into one another’s mouths until they both broke apart trying to catch their breath. They stood panting together in the cramped shower their heads bowed to one another and hands entwined together.

“God I love you,” whispered Fíli, looking up at her with earnest blue eyes that made Sigrid’s heart stop beating.

“Don’t say that,” she murmured, letting go of his hand.

“Sigrid I--” he began, trying to reach for her, but she pulled herself away again.

“You can’t say those kind of things. You just can’t.” she asserted, shaking her head to rid herself of any thoughts to the contrary.

“Why not?” Fíli said firmly. “Sigrid, I—come on you can’t do this to me.”

“Look, it was an accident, I get it, I do. Let’s just--”

“No. No it wasn’t a mistake.”  Fíli slowly tried to touch her again, lightly resting his hand on her hip. “I meant it Sigrid, I-- come on you must feel something here? You have to know this is about more than sex.”

“No it’s not! It really  _ is _ just about sex. Now, now stop playing these games and let’s just go and  _ have _ some of that sex, yeah?” she all but snapped, sliding open the door to the shower and stepping out of it. The cold air hit her and she couldn’t help but shiver, instantly wishing she could be back in there with him.

“Sigrid, you can’t just do this!” cried Fíli. “You can’t-- for God’s— Sigrid you can’t keep pushing me away like this, I can’t handle it anymore. I just, I can’t!”

“I’m not pushing you away,” she faked a laugh, grabbing his hand again and trying to pull him towards her and into the open. “Quite the opposite, I want you as close to me as I can get.” She tried to get the same seductive, sultry tone to her voice as she’d used before but for some reason it came out forced and frightened.

Fíli shoved her off, stepping out of the shower by himself and grabbing a towel to wrap around him. “Sigrid. Can we please just talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to—“

“Oh come on!” he guffawed, running his hands back through his hair. “One minute we’re sharing everything, talking into the night and wrapped up in the other’s arms; and the next you’re making excuses to leave, telling me we’re just friends or else trying to use sex as a way to shut me up. Well, I’m not having any of it anymore. I’m not a yo-yo Sigrid! You can’t just push me and pull me away anytime you like. Stop playing with me and just make a decision, alright!”

“A decision about what?” She huffed, crossing her arms around herself. She’d never felt more naked in her life.

“About  _ us _ .” He groaned in frustration. “Because yeah Sigrid, as far as I’m concerned, we’re an  _ us  _ now.”

“Well, what if I don’t want that for  _ us _ ?” she countered.

“Then say so! Make a fucking decision on it because right now, it feels like you’re just refusing to even  _ try _ and it’s  _ killing _ me Sig.”

“What’s wrong with how it was before! You were fine with it all when we agreed to this set up. Friends who have sex,  _ that’s _ what we are.”

“Well not to me!” he shouted, his voice waving slightly at the end. “Not anymore Sig. If you want casual sex, then fine, but you’re going to have to find someone else to have it with.” He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm despite the pain. 

“Look Sigrid, I think I do  _ honestly _ love you and I know it’s too soon and I know that it’s not what we agreed on, but I can’t stop feeling this way. I want to give you everything I have Sig, but if you can’t do the same for me then I’m walking away right now.” He took a step forward, bending to pick up his clothes from the floor.

“Fíli come on, don’t be like this…” she pleaded, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s your choice Sigrid? Do you want me or not?”

“I--” she began, the words getting caught up in her throat.

He shook his head sadly. “Yeah, exactly what I thought.”

He pushed past her and into the bedroom, pulling his shorts back on, mindless of how wet they’d gotten on the floor. Sigrid followed straight after, trying to reach out to hold him one last time. She wanted to stop him, she wanted to make him stay but she just didn’t know how. No, that was wrong, she knew exactly what she could say to fix all of this, but the thought of it made her want to run away herself.

He didn’t look at her as he pulled his shirt back over his head and made his way to the door, opening it with a bit more force than was necessary. He threw her one last glance over his shoulder. “Good luck with the tournament Sigrid, not that you’ll need it anyway.”

“Fíli wait, come on, don’t--” but the door slammed shut in her face and she could hear him marching down the corridor. She stood there unable to move, surrounded by his wet footprints tracked all over the floor. She wrung her hands together, trying to find something else to focus on and her fingers caught on the hairband around her wrist. His band. She quickly pulled it off and flung it across the room, however it only landed a few centimetres from her.

Suddenly it all crashed in on her at once, the weight of all she had said and done these past few months and all the words she wish she had and hadn’t said; and that was how Éowyn found her, curled up naked on top of the bed covers, her body shaking in heaving sobs. Éowyn had never seen Sigrid this broken before; after Lothíriel she’d just been angry. Oh she’d cried obviously, she’d pleaded and whined but it hadn’t been like this, like she was completely incapable of standing on her own anymore. It was as if her fight and strength had left her.

“I’m going to kill him,” muttered Éowyn, before rushing to her aid.

This was exactly what Éowyn feared would happen, only somehow much worse. They would find a way to fix this though, they had to, they still had four games left to win.

There was, after all, no gold medal for heartbreak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First up, I hope you've been enjoying yourself despite my ridiculously self indulgences throughout! Thank you for reading, and for commenting, it keeps me going it really does! 
> 
> Secondly, I'm afraid I'm going to have to put this fic on hiatus until I've finished my dissertation. I'm a Final Year Student now, and my work load is getting to be too much to write fic /and/ write essays /and/ complete my practical projects... 
> 
> My dissertation is due in February though, which means I'll hopefully be able to bring you a new update in time for Fígrid February! 
> 
> I hope you all have a great festive season, filled with all the Mince Pies that your heart desires! (I for one have eaten 5 packets since the start of December) 
> 
> Right! Off to go and see Moana and Rogue 1. 
> 
> Don't Forget To Be Awesome, 
> 
> Geek xXx


	13. An Offending player may be warned and temporarily suspended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your Midfielder has been fraternising with mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *arrises from pile of text books and essay papers* I liiiiiiiiiiiiveeeeee! Well, for now. We'll see how my results go when I get them back at Easter. 
> 
> ANYWAY, here is that next chapter, I hope you feel it was worth the wait. As I am still working on my Final Projects, I cannot promise you regular updates, however this fic is not abandoned! 
> 
> If you're still reading then I love you <3
> 
> Updates and news regarding the fic can still be found via http://mrsmarymorstan.tumblr.com/tagged/trotg

 

Éowyn had intended to spend the night with Faramir, and had only gone back to her room to get ready. She fully intended on giving him one last night to remember, and a reason to do so. Instead, she’d ended up calling him to apologise, and explain she’d be spending the night comforting her snotty, tear-stained friend as she sobbed her way through her pain. Faramir’s complete understanding made Éowyn’s own heart break just a little bit more. He was absolutely  _ the _ perfect man, and she would soon have to say goodbye to him. They’d always known it to be a summer romance, two weeks of bliss and then back to the real world, with microwave dinners and missed busses and all those other mundane atrocities. It wasn't meant to feel like it could last forever, because there was no way that it ever possibly could. They would go back to their retrospective homelands and not see one another again until the next tournament, if at all. 

All the while, Sigrid continued to pour her heart out to Éowyn in a way she never had before in their ten years of friendship. Sigrid was always a little dramatic about things, but this was somehow different, there was regret spilling out of her every fibre as she told Éowyn all about her ‘secret’ relationship (it really had been so terribly obvious to everyone else) with Fíli; apparently everything had started to move so fast between them that Sigrid didn’t know how she was even  _ meant _ to be feeling about it. Éowyn couldn’t help but feel a little offended when Sigrid told her just how much she’d revealed of herself to Fíli, secrets she’d never even guessed at, about Sigrid’s mother, her doubts and her regrets. However the guilt in her whisper made Éowyn forgive it all entirely.  She told Éowyn about how right everything felt in his arms, and how she wished it was  _ him _ with her right now, holding her close and telling her that everything was going to be okay -- but it wasn’t and that was the problem. Fíli had said he loved her, and it terrified her because what if what he was right? What if  _ she _ was in love too?

Éowyn thought it very clear that all these problems were of Sigrid’s own making, and she was  _ right _ in only having herself to blame. If she did not love Sigrid as much as she did, Éowyn would have slapped her for being so obtuse. However that was not going to help anyone.  They had a game in the morning and a quarter-final to prepare for. Their winning streak wouldn’t mean anything if they let it all drop now. Éowyn sighed and pulled her friend closer towards her, feeling sleep drawing in upon them both. They made quite the pair: Sigrid -- unable to recognise she was breaking her own heart until the moment it fractured; and Éowyn-- totally aware that it was happening and powerless to stop it.

Éowyn knew she needed to be here for Sigrid though, because once they were back in England and the realities of the tournament had kicked in, she’d need her best friend by her side too. Sigrid had her faults, but loyalty was not one of them.

Sigrid woke up the next day feeling only marginally better than she had before. She knew the arms around her were not the  _ correct _ arms, but they were still those of someone she loved. She rolled over hugged Éowyn even tighter, waking her up in the process.

“Whoa there kid,” she mumbled groggily, “give a girl some warning before you get like that.”

“Thanks Wyn,” Sigrid whispered, “thanks for being here. Thank you for always being here.”

“No problem Sig,” she grinned, brushing her hands through Sigrid’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

They lay there in silence for a while, tucked up next to one another’s warmth. As the sun began to drift in through the curtains, they finally moved apart. Sigrid made gave another noise of thanks, before slowly rolling out of bed. She headed vaguely towards the shower in an attempt to get some sense of routine back into her life but she hesitated. The towels were still in the same mess that they had been when he’d left. A pool of water was still spreading across the floor from the shower. His hair band was still resting on the carpet…

“You okay Sig?” came Éowyn’s concerned voice.

“No, but I’m going to have to be,” she answered, before finally entering the bathroom. Éowyn was right, no matter what; the show must always go on. They both couldn’t let a little thing like love get in the way. She had the expectations of a nation resting on her shoulders, and a team she could not bear to let down. She couldn’t let everything drop to the floor, not again. She had to keep on playing, even if her heart was breaking.

 

~*~

 

“And so here we are, U.S.A vs. Great Britain, both teams so far undefeated this tournament with only each other left to play.”

“Should be a good game, Haleth. They’re probably the two physically fittest teams here at the tournament, so I imagine they’ll both come out fighting and keep that energy up.”

“And that’s leaving aside the long term international rivalries. With both teams guaranteed a spot in the Quarters, there’s only pride to play for.”

“As I said, Haleth, this ought to be a good game.”

 

~*~

 

It was a tough match. No matter how many times they got the ball in the American D, they just couldn’t get it past the Goalie. They needed to keep tight on the rebounds, but Sigrid kept suffering a last minute lapse in concentration. As soon as she’d take a shot on goal, her brain would shut down as if that was all there was to do. She’d pick herself up again when the play restarted, but any moment she wasn’t physically active her brain would just take her back to the night before, and all that self hate would come flooding back.

The team would never hate on her directly, but she knew she was useless to them. She did enough to keep the ball from straying to far into their half, and so she was still in Dagní’s good books, but there was no way they could win if she couldn’t help them score. At half time, with still no goals either side, Háma pulled her aside for a quick one-to-one whilst the rest of the squad set up for the start of play.

“Sigrid, what’s happening out there? I know you were a bit off at training, but you told me you were going to sort it out. You  _ know _ my rules about letting your personal life interfere with what’s happening on the pitch. I understand that Lothíriel coming back was not exactly--”

“It’s not Lothí!” Sigrid quickly interrupted. “It’s really, really not her. We’re over, and I’m completely fine with that now.”

“So what is it that’s bothering you out there?”

“Nothing,” she said casually. “Just a bit tired maybe? I don’t know…” she glanced away from Háma’s shrewd gaze but caught Pearl’s smirk. She might be able to fool her coach, but there was no getting past her teammates. Pearl made it her business to know  _ everyone’s _ business; she was a publicist, after all, with a brother who regularly appeared in the gossip columns.

“Well just think of it as just another game Sig,” smiled Háma, somehow falling for Sigrid’s emotional misdirection. “We’ve all come this far, and you can take a breather with this one, but I need you coming back strong alright? Everyone else is tired too, but you  _ have _ to stick together. You understand me?”

“Yes coach.” She nodded firmly.

“Alright, get some liquids on, then you can sub for Hild.”

“Yes coach,” she repeated, taking another swig of lucozade before grabbing her stick to get ready.

“You’ve got this Sig,” smiled Rosie, “you’re one of the best Midfielders here, we all know that and we all love you for it. Make sure you show the rest of the world why.” She gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before signalling to Lobelia that she’d be subbing in. She was looking slightly worse for wear having just charged through two American attackers at once as they tried to make another dash for the D. She didn’t always look it with her terrible fashion sense and posh accent– but Lobelia could be a right wolverine when provoked.

Sigrid nodded her thanks as she sprinted back onto the pitch. Her teammate was right. Sigrid  _ was _ a fantastic player, and she needed to live up to that right now. She took a steadying breath and took up her position. Sigrid was  _ determined _ to not be defeated so easily.

Five minutes later, the U.S.A scored.

Another lapse in concentration allowed for three attackers to break free, and Sigrid was too slow to chase after them. Rosie and Aerin did their best to meet them, but the Americans were still had the upper edge and a quick shot from the top of the D just slid underneath Dagní’s pads.

The stadium erupted into cheers and shouts of  “U.S. _ A _ ! U.S. _ A _ ! U.S. _ A _ !” and Sigrid just felt like collapsing face down on the pitch.

“Come on Bowman. Enough,” snapped Dagní, yanking off her helmet, “If I’m not beating myself up about it, then you shouldn’t either. Rule one of playing for GB – you get knocked down, you get back up again.”

“They’re never gonna keep us down,” sang Hild with a grin, throwing Dagní her water bottle before heading back to position to re-start the game. “Come on Sigrid, don’t go down without a fight. Keep it all together.”

Her words did not do a lot for Sigrid though, however it did show that they were still a team. It wasn’t long before Tauriel proved why she was their captain, leading a sprinting charge back down the pitch, and smashing the ball right into the corner of the goal, where Morwen was already waiting to tap it inside. It was a textbook goal and the team roared in celebration before sprinting back to the middle of the pitch.

“Even score now Bowman, let’s get back to winning this tournament, yeah?”

“The British are coming,” smiled Sigrid, twisting her stick in her hand as she waited for the whistle to signal the re-start of the game.

“Exactly right, Sheep-shagger.”

The match went back into full swing and Sigrid tried her best to join in with the team. She made the correct passes, tried to commit to each hit, but something inside her still felt off. It was no surprise that Éowyn’s final winning goal came when Sigrid was off the pitch. She cheered and clapped alongside her team from the sidelines, and there she remained until the end of the match.

The team were still undefeated. They’d held together long enough to win the group, but none of that mattered now. The quarterfinals were a knock out stage, and just because the statistics said they  _ should _ beat Spain, it didn’t mean they would. Whilst the rest of the team celebrated she simply sat at the side, feigning a smile whenever someone tried to engage with her.

Háma still hovered by the white board, watching the scene with concern. Their team needed to be cohesive, and that clearly wasn’t happening. Everything had been going right up until this morning! If it wasn’t Lothíriel, then it had to be something else… She beckoned Tauriel over and pulled her to the side on the pretense of going over their game plan against Spain.

“Okay Tau, enough dancing around, what’s wrong with Sigrid? What have I missed? I need to know, I can’t help if I don’t have all the facts.” She folded her arms and fixed Tauriel with her most motherly glare. It did the job. Tauriel ran a hand over her face, glancing over to check that Sigrid wasn’t listening before answering.

“She’s been seeing someone whilst she was here, well, less seeing and more shagging if you understand me.”

Háma nodded, she was aware of how many players, especially the younger ones, chose to let off steam with casual sex. It wasn’t really something she’d ever been interested in, but if it worked for them then so be it. “So what happened? Did they, wait did they do something to--”

“No! Nothing like that, he wouldn’t do that. But, from what I can gather they had a fight and it left Sigrid a bit shaken. I think they were looking for different things from their relationship. I don’t know the details of it I’m afraid, and I don’t think it’s our business to--”

“Oh God, are you two talking about Fíli?” asked Pearl, who’d suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “Hot gossip or what?! Wonder what happened, I live across the hall. There was so much shouting I--”

Háma’s eyes clouded over, giving way to that famed fierceness. You could take the girl out of the goal, but you could never take the goalie out of the girl. “Fíli? This is the Durinson boy?”

“Well, he and Kíli go by McBuri but yeah, shame the men didn't get any further than they did. Puts the pressure on us, don’t it but--”

Without another word Háma turned on the spot and marched out the door. Pearl looked on in confusion, turning to Tauriel for an explanation and only getting hit in the arm.  

“Nice going there Took. What were you thinking telling Háma all the details?”

“I didn’t! I mean, I do know the  _ details, _ but I’d rather not if you catch my drift. I know about Éowyn too, her and that Canadian are—“

“Yes Fool!  _ We _ all know about that, but  _ Háma _ didn’t need to know.”

“She didn’t?” frowned Pearl, looking over at Sigrid then back over at where Háma had just been. “But, if Sigrid’s out of it and then… and then…  _ ooh _ … Mamma Bear.”

“Mamma Bear,” agreed Tauriel. Poor lad, he didn’t really stand a chance. She went back over to her kit bag on the pretense of stripping for the shower, but before she did she picked up her phone and sent off a text in warning. With a bit of luck, he’d get it before any proper damage was done.

 

~*~

 

Fíli had spent most of the day laying in bed, just wanting to forget about everything that had happened this last week,  _ God _ it felt longer though. Nori wasn’t there when he’d come back to their room last night, and he’d taken the opportunity to cry alone. He was angry. He was angry with himself, he was angry at Sigrid, he was angry at his family, and with the room, and with the kettle, and with that stupid yellow, burning hate orb in the sky. He’d taken another shower to try and wash it all away again, but it didn’t work. He’d still ended up curled up on his bed, actively ignoring the myriad texts from his family. Everyone else clearly assumed he’d be spending the night with Sigrid, and so he was left alone to his own devices. When Nori had staggered back at three am, completely shit faced, it had been easy enough to pretend he was still asleep. In the morning, he’d continued the ruse, and gone down to breakfast before the rest of the team was awake.

He’d been nervous of catching the women’s team, but they’d all headed down to the pitch and so it was just him and a few random athletes at the breakfast table. Usually he’d try and make some sort of conversation with them, but today he just wanted to be left alone for as long as possible and to eat his toast in silence, allowing himself time to put back up his barriers. Breakfast was almost over by the time the rest of the squad began to dribble downstairs, last night’s activities plain as the love bite on Noenid’s neck. Haldir and Gil-Galad had matching sharpie porno-staches, and Théo looked as though the very  _ existence _ of light was a personal insult to his soul. 

Dwalin took them away for a debriefing and went through everything that had gone right and all the things that had gone wrong. Fíli felt it all pass over him in a wave of white noise. His mind kept wandering back to what Sigrid was doing right now, what the score was on her game, how she was playing and if she was hurting as much as he was. Probably not; it had been her who’d wanted them to split, after all. She’d most likely gone out straight after and found someone else to hook up with. He was just a notch on her bedpost, and he needed to get over that. It was what they’d agreed on, after all. He needed to get over himself for a change and just move on.

In a vague attempt to do so, he’d spent the rest of the day hanging out with his team, walking around to check out some of the other events going on. There was a certain freedom to having it all being over, they didn’t have anything else to worry about, but the squad were all still hurting from the tournament. There were plans to go out and explore what the Rio nightlife had to offer, but though Fíli was feeling marginally better, he still wasn’t sure he was in the mood to celebrate anything. When the team went back for lunch he was met with the rage of a person he was not expecting.

“Durinson. We need to talk. Now.”  The whole room turned round to stare at the woman who barged into the room. There was dead silence as they waited to see what happened next; athletes loved drama, after all.

“Háma,” began Fíli, trying his best to keep his cool in the face of a fiery rage. “How did the match go? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“If you want to do this here then we can, Durinson, but--”

“It’s McBuri, actually, if you don’t mind.”

“It might be McBuri on your shirt, but there’s no denying you’re still a Durinson, and Durinsons ought to know better than to mess with other players,” she shot back. “Whatever happened to that sporting teamwork legacy, hmm?”

“Fíli, what’s going on?” asked Noenid, taking a step closer. The rest of the team all huddled closer around him. 

“I’ve no idea,” lied Fíli.

“I don’t want to do this here, but I will if I have to,” replied Háma, squaring her shoulders and drawing herself up to her full and considerable height.

“And what needs doing exactly?” asked Noenid, not one to be put off by anything. He was a captain, after all, and would defend his teammates to the hilt.

“He needs to apologise and understand what it is his little game has done.”  Her eyes didn’t leave Fíli and neither did the assembled onlookers.

“This is about Sigrid, isn't it,” muttered Fíli, looking down at the ground. “I told her I didn’t want to— we’ve… there’s nothing to worry about anymore, Háma.”

“Well that’s Bull Shit if ever I heard--”

“Okay let’s go find somewhere a bit more private if this is gonna get all personal,” cut in Nori. “Don’t get me wrong, I love me some drama but maybe not in front of everyone else.” He grabbed Fíli’s arm and dragged him outside to the emptier garden area, which most of the Brits had been avoiding from fear of sun stroke. A few people made to follow but a look from Finn had them all sitting back down again, and anyone already present was sent running by Haldir’s surprisingly menacing appearance.

“Okay Háma,” said Noenid, taking control of the situation again, “tell me what your problem is with my midfielder.”

“This isn’t about you, Noah, you know I--”

“If you have a problem with my teammate you have a problem with me,” he replied, not backing down. A flicker of a smile appeared on Háma’s face at his display of leadership, but it was quickly replaced with a continuation of her rage.

“Your Midfielder has been fraternising with mine.”

“Nothing wrong there,” shrugged Noenid. “This is the Olympics, there’s a lot of that going round.”

“Yes, on the understanding that it won’t fuck people up, but have you seen what you’ve done to her?” she scoffed, then rounded back on Fíli “Her head’s completely out of it! She’s distracted, she’s missing her shots, she’s out of balance completely and honestly, if I could, I’d probably drop her. But I can’t because that would mess with the dynamic even more! So,” she took a deep breath to continue, “Look, I know what it’s like on a men’s team. Before I came out, I played for the men too. I know how the banter works; I know the exact rhetoric and expectations. I understand you’re just looking to get a leg over, and at any other point I wouldn’t mind, you’re both adults. However you can’t pull this bullshit here and now. Sigrid’s fragile. She’s still recovering and so you playing with her like this isn’t going to--”

Fíli’s brain was catching up now that the initial shock of her words had worn off. He felt his own anger begin to boil within him.

“I’ve not been playing her at all! She’s the one who’s been playing with  _ me _ . Thinking she can just use me and throw me back, act like I actually meant something to her then dropping me back to the floor.  _ I’m _ the one she hurt! All I did was tell her how I felt and she, she flat out rejected me so  _ don’t _ come crying to me expecting sympathy for Sigrid Fucking Bowman. I’m not going to be making  _ any _ apologies to her. It’s over between us.  _ Permanently _ .” His voice broke on the word, but he kept his gaze fixed on Háma, desperately fighting back his tears. He wished more than anything that they could find a way back to one another, but he couldn’t let himself give in to that pathetic hope anymore. Sigrid was bad for him, it didn’t matter how amazing and at peace he’d felt when he was with her, if all she saw him as was a glorified sex toy then he could never truly be happy. He wasn’t going to let anyone else walk over him again. He was better than that, and he wouldn’t start believing it until he started taking control of his own life, and that life would not contain any mention of certain heartless hockey stars. 

Háma blinked, clearly thrown by what was going on. She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the arrival of her own team, Dwalin also in tow. He nodded to Tauriel, thanking her for getting him, and then marching straight over, his terrifying gaze boring a hole into Háma’s brain.

“You step away from my team,” he growled. “You know this game by now Háma.  Enough of this. You have a problem with my boys, you come to me and we talk about it in private.”

“Dwalin, you know this is--”

“My squad,  _ my _ problem. In fact, from what Tauriel’s told me, you’re not the only with problems regarding the relations between our two squads.”

Háma bristled slightly but regained her calm quickly enough. “Fine. Lead on then, we have much to discuss in time for tomorrow.” She gestured towards the door and Dwalin scowled as he walked through it, the pair of them disappearing towards the seminar rooms. 

“Fíli, what’s going--” began Sigrid, moving towards him on instinct, but Éowyn held her back.

“Right Lads,” said Noenid, not paying the ladies any attention. “I think it’s time we explored the city. We’ll hit the beach first and then find the bars. Upstairs, grab your stuff, let’s get out of here before Dwalin gets back. No excuses, we’re all going.” He added firmly at Fíli’s look of protest. The men all walked past the girls and made a great act of not meeting any of them in the eye.

Tauriel heaved a sigh of relief once they were all gone and flopped down onto one of the big plump sofas in the garden. The last time she’d had a proper sit down was when they’d all hung out together, comforting the men on their loss, and celebrating Pippin and Merry’s win. It had made them all feel like like one united team, celebrating and commiserating together and cheering each other on no matter what. That was gone now. There was complete silence as the ladies moved to join her, all trying their best to not stare at Sigrid, who in turn was trying to appear as small as possible.

“You know,” mused Dagní after the painful silence had dragged on for too long, “none of this would have happened if you all just learnt to keep it in your shorts.”

Three sofa cushions were thrown in her direction and she batted them away on instinct, sending them flying back at her attackers. The melancholy immediately evaporated, but even as Tauriel moved to avoid an over enthusiastic elbow as the fight intensified, she knew it would not be kept at bay for long. She’d have to think up something to get them all working together again, because as long as Sigrid felt apart from the world, they were never going to win anything.

It was going to be tough, but Tauriel had not come this far to give up now. She was leaving here with a medal and secured funding for Tokyo, and she was not going to let a pair of handsome eyes get in the way of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Usual: 
> 
> Last week's match was a good one! I saw some action and we won 7-2. I saved more than I let in, so it was a win for me too!


	14. There are 11 players in a hockey team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s it like kissing someone with a beard?”

Much to her own annoyance, Tauriel had been absolutely right. There was nothing she could do to stop the girls gossiping, and there was apparently a lot to gossip about. It wasn’t just Sigrid’s breakdown they were interested in. Last night Tauriel had overheard a heated debate between Pearl and Lobelia over the likelihood of Cross-Continental relationships working out. Morwen and Hild were being their usual insufferable selves, believing that their own successful marriage made them experts on the subject, offering unsubtle and unwanted advice to a steadily more frustrated Idril. 

Even the ever-cheerful Rosie was starting to feel the strain, and was spending more and more time alone in her room skyping Sam and their brood. Meanwhile Dagní and Tar were getting more and more pissed off as the team’s focus drifted away from hockey and towards romance. Tauriel was in agreement; at 34 years old, this was potentially her last Olympics and she was determined to come away with gold this time. Yet even she couldn’t help but allow her mind to drift towards the Irish Camp, and how her own McBuri Brother was faring through all this. She was desperate to talk to him, but all considered, it just didn’t seem appropriate anymore.

Their training session that day had been their worst yet. They were all trying hard not to take it out on each other, but she could tell that Dagní and Tar were both close to breaking point. Háma had started the session by apologising for her behaviour, and gave them a team talk that should have been inspiring were it not for the fact its focus on teamwork and friendship only highlighted their lack of it.  Once again, it fell to Tauriel to bring the team together. She had been playing hockey since she was 8 years old, and had been captaining GB for six years. Yet in the end her inspiration did not come from her international tournament experience, but her best friend Legolas’ questionable movie choices.

“Right ladies,” she announced in the showers. “Háma is right. We need to get back into the groove of things. So I’m calling a team meeting.”

A groan rumbled throughout the squad, “Come on Captain, be reasonable, we know we’re playing like shit. We don’t need  _ another _ bloody conversation about it.”

“I don’t like your attitude, Aredhel, we do need a meeting; now so more than ever. So finish washing your hair, get some clean pyjamas on, and meet me in the Dun-Harrows’ room in one hour for chick-flicks and cocoa. There will be snacks.”

“Wait, what?” asked Morwen, as flabbergasted as the rest of the squad. “Do me and Hild not get a say in this?”

“No, you don’t. When you two bagsied the bigger room you knew this could be a consequence. Like I said girls, see you in one hour, and yes Tar – this is a whole team experience.”

They all dutifully gathered together, and anxiously awaited to find out what Tauriel’s idea of a ‘girls night in’ might be.  ‘Chick-Flick’ covered a wide variety of films, but it seemed she’d taken a more ‘Girl Power’ approach to it. They’d started with  _ Bend It Like Beckham _ as a film they could all relate to, then from there moved to  _ Legally Blonde  _ and so on. When they hit The Spice Girls’ movie, all was forgiven between the squad as they belted out all the songs. Scary, Baby, Ginger, Posh and Sporty were right, it didn’t matter who tried to romance you; friendship was forever.

As the night dragged on and the supply of smuggled crisps and Jelly Babies began to run low, they easily slipped back into teenage mode. It was inevitable that they’d end up playing  _ Never Have I Ever _ really. After all, sleep deprived and emotionally drained was very similar to drunk, and they could always keep a tally of who needed to take shots once the tournament was over.

Part of the game though, was realising just how much you already knew about one another. It was usually tradition to pick a victim for the evening and for some reason that victim was Dagní. Well, she did have the best stories.

“Never have I ever woken up with an endangered bird sitting on my stomach trying to steal my belt.”

“Never have I ever been to an S Club 7 Concert.”

“Never have I ever pissed myself during an international, televised game and continue to play on because I thought nobody would notice.”

“Never have I ever been arrested for trying to sneak into an S Club 7 Concert.”

“Never have I ever punched a man in the face for disagreeing with me over my choice of Pizza Topping.”

“Never have I ever been banished from the official S Club Fan Club for trying to sneak into an S Club 7 Concert by posing as Bradley’s long lost sister.”

Naturally, Dagní could always give as good as she got:

“Never have I ever had sex with an entire nation’s rugby team in the space of 48 hours.”

Tar accepted her deferred-punishment with a deep bow and a round of applause.

“Never have I ever given a guy a blow job in exchange for a packet of crisps.”

“Oh don’t you guys judge,” huffed Pearl “ _ Ja! Chips mit Paprika _ are the best and you just can’t get them outside of Germany!”

“Never have I ever been caught pegging my husband in a beer garden.”

“In fairness Sam and I do  _ own  _ that pub,” shrugged Rosie, but accepted the point nonetheless. After a few more embarrassments all round, Dagní decided it was time to play her trump card.

“Never have I ever hooked up with someone from another team during a tournament.”

There was a general groan as pretty much the whole squad marked down their future drink.

“Okay, but Idril, I have a really important question in regards to this,” began Morwen seriously, ignoring the frustrated eye rolls. “Now I may be a massive lesbian, and I may be married, but I have  _ eyes _ and really  _ Tuor _ ? You’re shagging  _ him _ now? You got with a gymnast last time!”

“What can I say,” shrugged Idril. “He knows how to please a girl, and who has ever been able to resist that Irish Charm.”

“Not our Captain, that’s for sure,” winked Ryann, nudging Tauriel in the ribs.

“Yeah, come on Cap, spill the beans! What’s going on with you two?” asked Aredhel excitedly.

“Yeah, you and Sigrid can do a McBuri Brothers compare and contrast,” smirked Tar, ignoring the punch she received from Dagní and carrying on. “A shame Noah isn’t here, we could have done one on the Stewards too.”

Everyone turned to stare at her. They had gotten together to forget about all of that, but Tar had never been one to skirt around the problems in her way. She always tackled things head-on, and she had the literal bruises to prove it. Éowyn and Sigrid fell completely silent, staring straight down at the plastic cups in their hands. Éowyn’s was getting slowly crushed, whilst Sigrid just seemed to be trying to get lost in its contents.

“Well I don’t know what you want me to say,” said Tauriel, louder than perhaps necessary. “I don’t think there’s really anything to tell, not in the way you’re all thinking at least.”

“Oh come on!” cried Aredhel, trying to bring things back to what might be considered normal “We’re not asking for the gory details--”

“—I really don’t want to know  _ any _ details,” Dagní said in a monotone.

“—but  _ something _ would be nice, like, is he good in bed? Yes or No.”

Tauriel’s ears began to burn bright red. It was not a look they’d ever seen on her before, and it was rather disconcerting.  “I wouldn’t know,” she said casually. “I’ve not had sex with him, or, anyone… not really.”

This time the silence was a bit more comfortable, though no less shocking. “You’re a virgin?” cried Pearl, her mouth hanging open and any sense of tact completely gone.  “At  _ your  _ age?!”

“And what’s that meant to mean?” asked Tauriel, her commanding tone slipping back in, and Pearl looked appropriately chastised.

“Virginity is a social construct designed to shame women,” said Éowyn automatically. She still seemed a bit out of it, but if there was anything that would bring her back into the swing of things, it was the promise of a feminist discussion-come-rant. 

“And anyone who has a problem with it can fight this Virgin,” announced Dagní, glaring at them all.

“Well then I guess the real question we need to ask,” smiled Rosie, resting her chin on her hand. “Is have you  _ kissed _ him yet?”

An ‘ _ Oooo _ !’ rang out amongst the team, and they all broke into a fit of giggles, even Dagní.

“ _ Well _ ,” began Tauriel, “yes. Yes I have.” The team  _ ooo _ -ed again, this time louder.

“You slag,” grinned Tar.

“When and where?” Aredhel clapped her hands together, which helped open up a whole host of other questions. 

“Was there tongue?”

“Did he have to use a box to reach?”

“Was he any good?”

“What’s it like kissing someone with a beard?” asked Morwen curiously.  “ _ What _ ?” she said at the look Hild was giving her. “Like you’ve never wondered about that kind of thing.” Hild took a moment to think about it before giving a tilt of her head and turned to Tauriel expectantly.

“After the Ireland v. Canada game, on the beach, beneath the stars. Yes, Idril you  _ teenager _ , we did use tongue. No he did not have to use a box, he did go up on tip-toe though. And  _ yes _ , he was pretty damn good at it; and the beard,” she hesitated for a moment, “scratchy, but not un-enjoyable. I could get used to it.”

“And do you  _ want  _ to get used to it?” Aerin waggled her eyebrows.

“Well, he’s already promised to take me out for dinner when we get back to the UK, so yes. I fully intend to get used to that beard. He’s just so,” Tauriel gave out a small chuckle, “he’s just not like any other guy I’ve met. He’s kind, and attentive, and he’s a fantastic listener. He just seems to want to get to know me and find out about all my interests and, and he’s already ordered an astronomy book from Amazon! He said it would make being parted easier if something of me was already waiting for him when he got home.” The sound of Dagní’s retching was drowned out by Rosie’s cooing, neither of which seemed to stop Tauriel now she finally had the chance and the confidence to talk about everything. 

“He doesn’t even mind if we just sit in silence for ages. It’s like dating an actual prince charming, you know? There was a band playing music on the beach, and everyone was just walking past them and paying no attention, but he decided to take my hand and we just started dancing. The tango, or salsa, I’ve no idea about any of that, and neither does he - that was made clear - but we just spun around in circles and laughed and it felt amazing; as though it were just us and the music. I want to feel like that all the time. He’s like playing with a packed out stadium cheering you on, but a hundred times better.” 

“You  _ see _ ,” began Lobelia rather pompously, “you lot might think that all these quick, sex based relationships are the way to go but the  _ Captain _ clearly has the right idea. Young people are really  _ far _ too obsessed with sex these days.”

Everyone rolled their eyes at her usual ‘holier than thou’ nonsense; luckily Pearl was on hand to take her down a peg or seven.

“Oh for fucks sake, ‘Belia. I was your flatmate at university for three years! Don’t think I’ve so easily forgotten good ol’ Chlamydia Shagville and her revolving door.”

Lobelia blushed bright red and opened her mouth to talk about how she wasn’t nineteen anymore, and how her change in behaviour was the reason she was now so happily married – but Pearl’s look said it all really and she gave a huge sigh and threw her hands up in surrender. Pearl knew all about how she’d met Otho when they were both working at the same strip club, and she really didn’t want that story getting out on  _ tonight _ of all nights.

“So, you really think you and him can just, go on afterwards?” asked Éowyn carefully. “You and Kíli, the way you talk about him it’s like, I know that feeling. Faramir and I-- well we’ve definitely done a bit more than just kissing on a beach.” There was an edge of humour to her voice but none of her usual banter. “I want all of that though, I want to be able to walk hand-in-hand, and go dancing together and all that romantic stuff. We do talk you know!” she added at Tar’s unconvinced look. “We’ll sit in his room and just, talk about, God I don’t even know  _ what _ we talk about, we just do. Spending time with him feels like coming home. I don’t want to lose that but, but look this stuff never works. Long distance relationships  _ never _ work! There’s always stuff that gets in the way and time differences messing things up and I am not moving house for any boy okay? I like playing for Rohan, and my job at the stables, and being able to get a good cup of tea, I don’t want to live in Canada  _ or _ Australia. Which is where he splits his time. I just, I don’t want to try and then have it fail you know? So, so isn’t it just better if we break it up now? That’s the easiest thing here, yeah?”

“No sweetheart, it’s not,” smiled Rosie, taking her hand and squeezing it.

“There’s nothing worse than always asking ‘what if’,” added Idril, and there was something in her voice that suggested she knew this all too well.

“If you love him, then that should be all there is to it,” smiled Hild as Morwen pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“So then the question is, do you love him?” said Tar, crossing her arms as though interrogating her.

“I’ve known him less than a fortnight,” laughed Éowyn, “how am I meant to know any of that? Isn’t that the problem here?”

“Look, I knew with my Sam, that once he figured himself out and actually managed to ask me on a date, we’d  _ always _ be together. Sometimes it comes creeping up on you, sometimes it hits you straight away! You just have to roll with it and have fun. So enjoy it whilst you’re still young. By the sound of it, the only thing stopping you right now, is you.”

“Has he said he wants you to break up?” asked Sigrid, finally meeting her friend in the eye. “Has he at any point told you he doesn’t think you should be together, or made you cry, or told you all he’s looking for is sex. Has he ever made you feel crap about yourself, or left you alone in the middle of the night without warning?”

Éowyn looked slightly taken aback. “Of course not, why would he do that?”

“Then don’t let him go.” Sigrid urged. “Don’t give up on him before you’ve given it all a chance. _I’m_ the one who's meant to fuck things up, not you.” She sniffed. “At least I know why I’m alone, at least I understand that I’m the villain, don’t make Faramir think he’s one too because you won’t talk about it. He loves you ‘Wyn! Of course he loves you because you’re _you_. And I know you love him so don’t even think about lying to me about it. I know you too well. So don’t lose him, because losing the one you love is the shittest feeling in the world, especially when it’s your fault. Fíli was the perfect man, and I messed it up. I hurt him and I betrayed him.” Big fat tears were rolling down her cheeks once more as she added, “Don’t do that to Faramir, ‘Wyn. Don’t put him through that. He seems like such a fantastic guy. You two look so happy together, and I want you to be happy, ‘Wyn. Promise me, you’ll make it work, promise me you’ll let yourself be happy?”

“Sigrid Frances Bowman, you are the world's biggest twat and fool and I love you too.” Éowyn lurched forward and pulled her into a massive bear hug, finally crying as well.

At last they broke apart and Sigrid turned to face the expectant eyes of her team.

“So, are we all now allowed to call you an idiot who keeps jeopardising her own future and keeps making everything about herself?” asked Dagní.

“Yes,” nodded Sigrid, “definitely.”

“That you need to get over yourself, and start thinking about people who aren’t just your siblings?”

“That, despite everything, there is more to life than hockey?”

“You’ll apologise for always taking the last of the purple Jelly Babies?”

Sigrid nodded fervently, “Yes, yes all of that, even the Jelly Babies.”

“Damn right you should be sorry about them,” muttered Tar darkly.

“Look, everyone, I _promise_ you, I am so sorry about everything. I’m sorry that I allowed myself to get like this. I’m sorry for letting it mess with the team, I’m sorry for being such a drama queen about everything and I’m sorry for letting this be about me for so long. From here on out, I’m here for you _all_. We’re a team, and I’ll be a part of that team, properly. As such,” she began, a true smile creeping up along her face at last. “I think I have seriously missed out on some gossip because, _when,_ Rosie, did you and Sam start getting so kinky! Pegging in a beer garden? I need that story.”

“Oh my sweet summer child,” grinned Rosie “you don’t know the half of it.”

The night continued on as such, and with each story and joke things somehow went back to normal. It didn’t mean that Sigrid didn’t still feel that mix of shame and guilt over what she’d put Fíli through, but it was no longer her only thought. She had her team literally all around her. Rosie made for an excellent pillow, Dagní a great foot warmer and she didn’t even mind that Pearl’s feet were only five centimetres from her face. She finally felt like she was back to being a part of the team. It reminded her of the days when Tilda would clamber into her bed to sleep with her.

She’d always felt that her family and hockey were somehow separate: one fed into the other but they never coincided until now. Her team  _ were _ her family, just as much as Tilda and Bain and her parents. Nothing could ever break them apart if they all stood strong together. This group of random girls from across the country were her sisters, and she would lay down her life for each and every one of them. She’d have done it before, but the realisation of it somehow meant so much more.

In the morning they were going to take on Spain, and they were going to win. They were the best team here, and the sound of Aerin’s unattractive, guttural snoring boring into all their ears was proof of that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the hockey season is now officially over, and I have also played my last game with my university-town team. I'll be moving back to London after graduation, so there's no way I'll be commuting to Loughborough just for training and matches! But that is how long this has taken to write, a whole hockey season and it's not even finished ^__^;;; 
> 
> Oh yes! And I'll be at Magic Con (formally Hobbit Con) next week. If you see me, I'll be wearing my Tartan Sash Day 1 and Moriarty Cosplay on day 2, then come and say Hi! I may well have some mini lino prints to give away as well ;)
> 
> If you don't see me though you will definitely hear me... I have quite the laugh... 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you did then let me know ^__^ Constructive Criticism always welcome =)


	15. It is not necessary for every offence to be penalised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re probably going to wonder why I insisted on two nice jewish boys go to gaze upon a statue of this lord and saviour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who is pretty much done with University forever! Me. The answer is me. I still have a few bits of paperwork to complete, but on the 26th May I handed in my final piece of coursework and on the 27th I got back to working on fanfic. I got the preliminary results back on my dissertation, by the way, and just managed to scrape a first! So thank you for all the good vibes and encouragements <3 
> 
> Also thanks to everyone who made MagicCon as awesome as it was! And I'm once again sorry for my laugh.... 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this next instalment =)

Everything was dark. His world was a comforting black abyss and that was just as it should be. Then a small stubborn burst of light threatened to impact upon it, seeping into the cracks of his skin, bringing with it a deep throbbing pain. It started in the back of his head and then pulsed around the rest of him. He tried to groan but his throat was sandpaper and the sound just silently scratched across it. But then suddenly through it all, the sweet scent of salvation!

Fíli finally opened his eyes to the midday sun and gazed in awe at the mug a few inches from his face.

“That’s it Fí, nice cup of coffee for you to drink. Come on, come on you can do it,” cooed his brother, who sounded far too happy for the world as Fíli saw it. Still, coffee was coffee and so he lifted himself slowly up, the world spinning before his eyes. With even greater effort he reached out and grabbed the mug and took a deep sip. It burnt his throat, but he could still feel its mystic healing power begin to seep into his blood.

“Good lad,” grinned Kíli, ruffling his big brother’s hair and laughing as Fíli made a weak attempt to swat him away. “Now is that any way to treat those who love and care for you?”

“If you loved and cared for me then you’d never have let me drink that much,” mumbled Fíli in response, “ _God_ I’ve not felt this rough since uni.”

“Yeah well, we made a few extra drinking rules for the night. ‘No mention of your love lives or you have to take a shot.’ You and Noah lost. _Spectacularly_. On the plus side, Faramir does now have some fantastic material for his best man’s speech.”

“How are you even this awake?” asked Fíli, not daring to ask what information Kíli might have gathered; he was beginning to feel more and more human with each sip, and did not want to risk any further embarrassments. “You always drink the most. How did you not break the rules? All you’ve talked about this past week has been how amazing Tauriel is.”

“And it’s precisely because of how awesome she is that I kept my mouth shut,” he beamed. “I’m not wasting _any_ time I might have with her by being hung over.”

Fíli just glowered at him some more, but refused to make a comment. He was in too much pain to get into any arguments right now.

“Come on Kid, drink up, have a shower and get that muck off your face. We have a lot to talk about and you’ll probably want to be sober for it. If it helps,” he said, plucking the pillow from Fíli’s hands before he could throw it at him, “I’ve got a bacon sarnie waiting downstairs for you.”

“Why couldn't you just bring it with you?” moaned Fíli, but he was only met with another grin. Kíli gave a merry wave as he walked out the door, closing it with far more force than necessary. Fíli flinched at the sound, but it at least helped wake him up that bit more.

He gave a deep sigh and began to take in his surroundings. On the surface it looked like every other athlete’s room, but with the addition of _a lot_ more green. There were hockey sticks and socks strewn around the place. There was a towering pyramid of empty water bottles in the corner, and nobody seemed to have bothered to empty their suitcases since they’d arrived. Most notably though, was the irish flag stuck to the wall with grip-tape. Okay, so he had to be in his brother’s room. There was no sight of his room mate though, and Fíli could only find himself grateful for it. He was sure that Eoin was a nice enough guy, but he really wasn’t in the mood to make small talk.

Fíli finally sat up properly and staggered towards the bathroom. Still reluctant to move, he stood and stared at himself in the reflection of the shower door. Well, if he wasn’t grateful for Sigrid’s absence before, he really was now. He was sure he’d gone out in knee length shorts and a plain button-down, but somewhere along the way he seemed to have rolled the shorts up so they resembled more of a belt, and had knotted his shirt round the front so he looked like a bad drag version of Britney Spears. A flashback involving glowsticks and dance offs flickered across his brain and he let out another sigh. No doubt Kíli would have more stories to tell him once he was downstairs.

But for now, all there was to do was to get into the shower and try to clean the glitter off his chest. He had a sneaking suspicion that he might be there some time.

Indeed, after twenty minutes he’d given up and accepted that he’d be spending the next couple of days resembling a human disco ball until he could find someone willing to wax his chest to clear it all (as if he wasn’t going through _enough_ pain right now). The night before was still a wild blur, but more and more was starting to come back to him. It seemed like every defeated hockey team had gone down to the same club, and eight hockey teams all commiserating together was a real recipe for disaster. It turned out that most people were now scattered across the Olympic Village, having either hooked up with fellow athletes or just collapsed wherever they’d found themselves.

It didn't seem that anybody other than Kíli was ready to surface just yet, but he’d reassured Fíli that none of his teammates had yet asphyxiated on their own vomit. The bacon sandwich he’d been promised was cold and dry, but it still did the job and by the time lunch was served he was almost back to normal. Technically he should have gone back to the British dorms for that, but there was something comforting about being surrounded by relative strangers, and the mix of Irish lilts was a far more pleasant background noise. They just all seemed happy to be there, and the room lacked the strained, pressured atmosphere of team GB. More importantly though: there was no sign of Sigrid.

That was, according to Kíli (who’d taken the opportunity to remind his brother of all the stupid things he’d done the night before), the whole reason he’d ended up staying with him to begin with. He’d apparently been very determined to go and tell Sigrid that he was totally ignoring her and not paying any attention to her at all, ever. Noenid had given him his full support behind that mission, having spent the evening talking about how much he wanted to romance Boromir, and the various dates he wanted to take him on. Naturally they’d both been frog-marched back home as soon as possible, before they could act on their desires. Finn and Théo saw to Noenid, whilst Kíli took responsibility for his brother. Eoin had gladly agreed to find a bed elsewhere (with one of the South Korean players, it had turned out) so as Fíli could be safe from embarrassment and potential harassment lawsuits. Kíli had even taken the precaution of stealing his brother’s phone, just in case he decided to take matters into his own hands.  

“We should go for a walk,” said Kíli after he’d had enough of watching Fíli squirm in shame. “Go out and see the city before we leave. Get away from it all and have a proper chat for a change.”

Fíli gave a sigh. “Kíli, we leave tomorrow. I need to go back to my flat eventually and pack up. And get out of these clothes, I don’t really want to smell like a nightclub, thank you very much.”

“Ah _go on_ , you’ll be with an Irishman! They expect us to smell like alcohol so they do.” He winked and expertly dodged the bread roll sent his way. “Come on, I’ll lend you some clothes to squeeze your fat arse into. Let’s get out of here and get some perspective. You been up to Christ the Redeemer yet? Ah come on Fíli! You have to go and see it up close! What would old Granny McBuri say if she found out you came all this way and not gone up to say hello to Jesus now?”

Fíli rolled his eyes but smiled none the less, “Fine, I’ll come. But you’re paying for everything.”

“That is so rude. If I were not an amazing, supportive brother then I would hold it against you,” he said as he pulled Fíli away from his food and shoved him back towards the lifts. Fíli sighed but complied nonetheless. He could do with getting away from it all. A day’s holiday might be just what he needed.

After locating some clothes that might actually fit Fíli’s broader and shorter frame and ‘borrowing’ a cap from Eoin to avoid heatstroke, the brothers made their way out of the village. They had to fight against the swarm of people heading in the opposite direction to do so. Every now and then they’d spot some famous athlete posing for selfies with their medals and flashes of major events on the screens. Kíli tried his best to distract him from any talk of hockey, but they happened to pass a group of Brits excitedly talking about the latest results. GB had beat Spain 3 to 1. Sigrid would be staying it would seem, and Fíli was never more grateful to be leaving.

Kíli wrapped an arm around him and guided him away from them, informing him that they’d not yet met their selfie quota for the day. To Fíli’s horror, he pulled out a selfie stick and they spent the whole trip to the mountain taking photos from every angle imaginable. What started out as an embarrassing chore quickly lead to pure fun. By the time they got there, they had enough photos of them pulling stupid faces and posing with random strangers to please even their grandmother. Fíli found himself laughing again, and completely distracted. However, not distracted enough to agree to trek the 700m to the top by foot though, and insisted Kíli fork out for the train. They sat in a comfortable silence as they enjoyed the journey. The bright blue sky and rich greens were a far cry from the concrete forests of home and he found himself feeling truly relaxed and at peace. On the way up he didn’t  think of… anything. He didn’t even ponder what it meant that he’d apparently replaced sex with scenery.

The train eventually came to a stop, and they made the rest of the way by foot. Their best view of the statue had been aboard the train of course, but they still took even more photos just to add something extra to the family Chrismukkah Newsletter ( _yes both my sons represented their nations at the Olympics but more importantly they saw a giant statue of Jesus_ ). There was a certain magic to being so close to the real thing. It was a solid, reliable presence. It towered above all, yet did so with open arms. They weren’t especially religious-- after all, Dís was Jewish and Víli an Irish Catholic; but most gigantic religious statues will bring out something in you. Fíli felt small beneath it, but there was something comforting about that. There were more important things happening in this city _alone_ than that of the Olympics. The tournament was a helpful distraction for most people, and it was strange that Fíli was feeling otherwise. 

“Now then,” said Kíli with a surprising amount of seriousness for someone who’d just tried to recreate the Titanic scene with 38 metres of sandstone. “You’re probably going to wonder why I insisted on two nice Jewish boys going to gaze upon a statue of this lord and saviour.”

“Well we are _Catholic_ jews,” quipped Fíli in perfect imitation of Granny McBuri

“And very handsome ones at that.” Kíli grinned in response, relaxing against the railings. “But that aside, I wanted to show you this,” he pulled out a notebook from his backpack and chucked it at Fíli.  

“Ah, the famous scrapbook,” commented Fíli, flicking through it. Inside were team sheets, newspaper clippings, screen caps, receipts; it was a diary of all that the Irish team had done to get them to where they were.

“Coach gave them to us right here, where we’re standing, on our first day in Rio. Well, at least I think we were standing here… doesn’t matter. What matters is that he told us that getting to the olympics was achievement enough. Even then, that book? It only covers what the team went through, not what we went through as _individuals_ . The school tournaments, the late nights, the county try outs. Everything else from here on in, it’s the cherry on the cake. Sure we _wanted_ to make it through the quarters, but we didn’t. Doesn’t mean we’re not winners. How many kids dream of making it here, just to wear their nation’s colours and walk about the village for a couple of days? To sit across a table from their heroes?”

“Quite a few,” murmured Fíli, sensing where this was going.

“More than a few. Every kid who's ever played has at least had a _second_ where they fantasized of being here. There are people back home who didn’t make the final squad, who’d happily kill one of us if it meant taking our place. So, dear brother, why have you always looked so miserable?”

“What do you mean? I’ve not been miserable.”

“You have been, and not because of Sigrid. I thought, well I thought maybe you were just feeling a little lonely before but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Look, I thought you said we weren’t going to talk about--”

“And we’re not! We’re talking about you and what you’re doing with your life and what you’re making of it. You know what I think? I think that you don’t even _want_ to be here, you just think you _need_ to be here.”

“I still don’t know what you’re about Kí.” he sighed, turning away from his brother and looked out at the horizon.

“You’re not enjoying being here in the same way everyone else is. You’re here out of duty.”

“Yeah, duty to my country, same as you.”

“No, I’m here because I want to play for my nation. I want to feel proud in my heritage and inspire that in others. I want to play against the best in the world and become better for it. I want to have _fun_ doing all those things. You know what I think, Fí? You’re just here because everyone else says you should be here.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” glowered Fíli.

“Yeah, actually I do understand!” answered Kíli, ploughing on through ‘You’re so hung up on what everyone else is going to think of you, that you’ve not take a second to think of what you want for yourself. Like I said, everyone says you _should_ be here, so that’s why you are. But you don’t seem to care about what _you_ want.”

“What does what _I_ want have to do with anything?” He snapped, “we play hockey because that’s who we are. We compete in major tournaments because that’s what we do. It’s what _all_ Durinsons do.”

“No, it’s what Mum and our uncles did.”

“Yeah, and Grandad and Grandma if they’d have--”

“Yes but we’re not them!” cried Kíli, drawing some attention from the crowd now. There were a few phones starting to point their way. Fíli glowered again and pulled him further away from it all, but his brother was not going to be stopped so easily. “Just tell me the truth, Fí. Are you happy? When you get out and play are you happy?”

Fíli stumbled in his response. It was the same question he’d asked Sigrid only a couple of days before. It was the same question she’d asked him. Kíli didn’t seem to see his set back though and continued on, pressing his point further.   

“Tell me, have you enjoyed playing the matches, going to training, the long hours in the gym. Has it always felt worthwhile?”

Fíli still didn’t know how to respond. It was just part of his routine, it was just… what he did. He didn’t enjoy going to training anymore than he enjoyed brushing his teeth. His silence was answer enough for Kìli.

“You don’t have to keep it up you know.” He said more softly this time, “nobody will judge you if you call this your last tournament. You can go back to a normal life and nobody would call you out on it.”

Fíli paused before responding, “What normal life? My whole life is hockey, I don’t really have anything else… I’m a P.E. teacher. I’m a youth coach. At weekends I play in leagues and I watch games and I… I’m just a hockey player. That’s all I am.”

“No, no you’re not,” smiled Kíli sadly. “You’re a leader, a brother, a friend. You’re intelligent, tactical, witty. You’re crap at video games but make amazing cakes. You’ll carry strangers’ shopping bags for them and help little old ladies cross the road. You’ll happily throw a punch to defend a friend but never for your own self gain. You’re horrifically noble and honest and handsome. You’re not _just_ a hockey player.”

“Look, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t just… give up! What would Uncle Thorin say? Durinsons don’t run--”

“ _We’re_ McBuris, not Durinsons! And anyway, Uncle Thorin is an idiot who puts too much pressure on himself and others, just ask Bilbo. Plus come on Fí, you know Uncle Frerin didn’t play again after his olympics. He gave his medal to Grandma and went back to being an artist.”

“Are you saying I should start wearing nail polish and go live in a field?”

“No, I’m saying that you’ve got other passions, and they’re not about playing on the world stage.”

“So then, Mr. Know-it-all, what do you suggest I do then?”  

“Figure out what you want in life. Figure out what makes you happy and keep doing it. Hey, don’t look at _me_ ! I’m not going to do _all_ the hard work here, you’re going to have to work on that one yourself.”

Fíli looked down at the book in his hands and turned it over thoughtfully. “Coaching.” He said at last, “I want to focus on coaching. I’m not going to like Uncle Thorin though, I’m going to be _better_. Much, much better.” he chuckled softly, remembering the intense pressure Thorin had always put his teams under.

Kíli laughed along with him. “Well, that was a much quicker response than I was expecting! I thought you were going to angst about it for at least another month.”

“Yeah well,” Fíli said, handing the book back to his brother. “You’re not the first one to talk to me about it.”  
  
“Oh God, you talked about this with _her_ didn’t you? Jesus Fí--”

“Kíli Aznág McBuri! I can’t believe you would dare blaspheme right here in front of--”

“Oh shut up _Granny_!” Kíli laughed, shoving him. “Wow though, so Sigrid really did get to you, huh?”

“I thought we weren’t meant to talk about that part of my life?”

“I’ll buy you a shot later. Did you _really_ talk to her about this before me?”

“Well, _she_ raised the topic about her own life first but… yeah? I did tell her everything before you. Um, sorry.”

Kíli gave him a pitying look, “She really meant that much to you, huh?”

“I guess she does,” he sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was silence between them again as they began to make their way back to the station.

“I’m sorry for suggesting this in the first place,” mumbled Kíli. “If I’d not… at the pub… I meant it as a joke. I didn’t mean for you to actually find a…”

“I know,” smiled Fíli, wrapping an arm around him. “If it helps, you were right. The sex really did help with my game.”

“Learn a few new tricks, did you?” winked Kíli.

“Certainly broadened my horizons. Blindfolds, who knew?”

“You kinky slut.” Kíli grinned, as they got back on the train.

There were things that still needed to be sorted. Life hadn’t gone back to normal just yet, but for now Fíli finally felt excited for what lay ahead. He was still grieving, god knew he’d be holding onto the pain for a while yet still. But there was a light at the end of the tunnel now. He didn’t know what was awaiting him there, but that was where the excitement lay. The olympics had always felt like the be all and end all of things, but he could see now that that simply wasn’t true. The end of this journey was simply the start of another.

“You know,” said Kíli thoughtfully, “if you’re interested in coaching full time you should talk to Gandalf about it. When you’re up to it of course. He’ll know what all the top teams are looking for. Hell, he’ll probably be able to hook you up without you even realising he’s done it.”   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So usually you’d get an update on my hockey games here, but as the season is over for me I thought I’d share something else with you. 
> 
> In 2015, Irish defender Paul Gleghorne (whom you might remember as the inspiration behind my decision for Kíli to play for Ireland) wrote a personal blog post about mental health issues, and how he has spent most of his life ignoring them until now. Recently he has done an interview with irish magazine talking about it further, post Rio. I’m going to warn you for mentions of suicidal thoughts and self harm, but I think it’s important that we discuss these issues. Especially considering how men’s mental health is so often ignored. 
> 
> You can read his original blog post here: http://paulgleghorne26.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/mental-health-awareness.html  
> And the recent (13th May 2016) interview here: http://www.the42.ie/paul-gleghorne-mental-health-hockey-interview-3379361-May2017/?utm_source=shortlink 
> 
> I will once again remind you, that this fic is not RPF.


	16. Field players are recommended to wear shin, ankle and mouth protection.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well it’s about time someone scored.”

The squad didn’t have a lot of time to recover after their Spanish game, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to give this one their all. Sigrid only had the best wishes for the kiwis, they were a great team and a friendly one at that. Yet whoever won this game would be guaranteed a medal! They’d beaten New Zealand to the bronze in 2012, and they were clearly still reeling from it, but there was no way Sigrid was going to let manners get in the way of their victory. 

It seemed the Kiwis weren’t going to let manners get in the way either. It was one of the bloodiest games Sigrid had played in a while. It was clear that nothing was deliberate, but desperation will lead to risk taking, and boy were they desperate. The game was scrappy and rough; it was hard to form a smooth run against a team who constantly had a stick in your face, but it wasn’t impossible…

 

~*~

 

“And that has _got_ to hurt! Pearl Took takes a ball direct to the knee from a Kiwi stick. That’s a penalty corner for certain. Yes, New Zealand not even bothering to contest.”  

“If we’re honest with ourselves, Findel, it’s really a good job she’s a short as she is. On someone a bit taller it would have hit her shin, and the call would be in New Zealand’s favour. I’d not worry too much about her though, we’ve all taken a few hits like that in our time, she’ll walk it off soon enough.” 

“Still, it will give GB the chance they need to score.”

“Well it’s about time  _ someone _ scored.”

 

~*~

 

Pearl hissed as she shook her knee out. “You’d think after twelve years you’d get used to this.” 

“If you’re not good to run on it we can sub you out,” said Tauriel seriously, looking her up and down.  

“No chance,” scoffed Pearl, twirling her stick. “She nearly took my leg off! I want revenge.” Tauriel just glared at her. Pearl sighed and put her gum shield back in. “Fine, I promise I won’t kill her. We’ll just beat them instead, yeah?”  

Tauriel grinned at her, “Now that’s the spirit. Alright girls listen up,” she called, beckoning the rest of their attackers towards her. “Now, they’ll have watched our previous games and know our usual set up, so I want to mix things up a bit. Pearl, you’re going to inject the ball out to me and I’ll feign a shot, then slip it to Éowyn. Éowyn, you’ll pass it towards Morwen who’ll be on the goal post. Sigrid, you head to the P-spot, but stick to the plan. Let the ball go to Morwen, is everyone happy? Alright, Umpire is getting tetchy, let’s go.” 

The girls all nodded and took up their positions. Sigrid watched as Pearl shifted from foot to foot, preparing for the whistle, a determined look in her eyes. There were cheers in the crowd as they chanted for them, then complete silence as the corner was taken. It went perfectly, the ball was fast and Tauriel’s reactions even faster, out-maneuvering the New Zealand runner. Éowyn took the ball and slid it to the right to dodge a defender then shot it to Morwen, who was already ready to tap it into the goal. But the New Zealand keeper was better than that and dived to knock it out the way! Sigrid saw it and made her own dive, picking the ball up and sending it back towards the goal. The keeper scrabbled on the floor and made the save again with the tip of her glove, but by now Éowyn was ready and she picked the ball up and flipped it over the keeper and into the goal. 

The crowd erupted into cheers.

 

~*~

 

“And that makes it one-nil to team GB with ten minutes left until halftime. Do you think it reflects the game being played, Haleth?”

“Well given what we’re seeing it’s hard to tell. There’s been a lot of dangerous play so far, and I expect that to continue. I think GB are the strongest side, but if the New Zealanders keep up their attack there might not be enough of them left to play on.” 

“So you’re expecting it to get more violent?" 

“Oh we’re not quite at a real level of violence just yet, but if the New Zealanders start to get desperate, I wouldn’t put anything past them.” 

“Well let’s hoping there’s not too much bloodshed just yet.” 

 

~*~

 

When the game started back up, New Zealand wasted no time rushing in with their own attack, sprinting right up the pitch with a determined pace not even Tauriel could keep up with. If it weren’t for Dagn í’s immense skill they’d have scored, but she’d kicked the ball out to the side where Rosie was ready to pick it up. She quickly passed it back up the midfield to an  already waiting Éowyn. The Kiwis surrounded them but Éowyn was not perturbed; she kept on running, dribbling the ball straight down the left wing like it was just another practice drill. The defence chased towards her but she dodged them, keeping control of the ball at all times. Yet now she was trapped. It didn’t matter that she was just three meters from the D, the New Zealanders had set up a blockade. Sigrid tried to move to help her, but to no avail. Sigrid could not see a single way out of this. Yet there was a glint in Éowyn’s eye that said she had not yet given up. Sigrid watched as her friend decided to rush the players, head down to the ground. The ball was tight on her side, her whole focus on it, then for a split second her eyes lifted back upfront. She was going to try and flick it up over the barricade! Sigrid backed up in preparation, and Éowyn took one more step forward… but the New Zealander had caught on and made her own move to thwack the ball away from her. Éowyn moved unexpectedly, and the player’s stick missed the ball completely. 

Blood blossomed across Éowyn’s head as she fell to the ground from the impact. The hiss of the crowd echoed around the stadium as the umpire rushed over followed swiftly by a medic team. 

Sigrid hung back, giving them the space to do their job. Her heart was pounding in her chest at the very thought of what this could mean. Injuries like this were common place, she’d gotten a few herself over the years, but they were never to be taken lightly. Yet Sigrid could already see that Éowyn was still conscious, and that was a blessing. One of the medics looked up as she packed away her gear and caught Sigrid’s eye, and answered her concerned gaze with a gentle smile and a nod. She rushed forward at last and helped Éowyn stagger back to her feet, taking the time to look over her herself.

“‘Wyn, are you okay?”

“Fine,” she hissed, moving her head experimentally. “I just need a bandage and a sit down. I’ll be fine in five minutes.”  

“You have a concussion,” sighed one of the medics, who sounded used to this kind of bravado by now. 

“Yeah and I’m not some football-playing celebrity wimp. Hockey girls get back on.” 

“Hockey girls get off pitches and get stitches,” they retorted and Éowyn sighed in resignation. After all, there was still blood trickling down her head, her blonde hair only highlighting the damage. Sigrid made to move off with her but Éowyn put her hand up to stop her. 

“Don’t follow me. Take the penalty and make them pay.” 

“Will do.” She smiled, grabbing her friend’s arm quickly before running to report back to the rest of the squad. They’d all gathered in a circle by the D, not wanting to bombard Éowyn with attention. Tauriel heaved a sigh when she’d heard Éowyn was already arguing with the medics; a good sign that she was going to be alright. 

“Umpire’s awarded a penalty, I’m guessing you want to take it Sig?” 

“Please. She’s my best mate, I have to.”  

“I’ve no problem with that, and neither does Háma. So get on with it Sheep Shagger, show them what you’re made of.”  

“We’re playing against  _ New Zealand _ and you’re making sheep jokes about  _ me _ ?”

“Look,” added Hild earnestly. “Sigrid if you want to fly out there and have shag-a-thon that’s your choice but for now, spare the ewes and score a goal instead.” 

“Can you guys just take this seriously please?” sighed Idril. “This is an olympic semi-final, you know?” 

“Yeah, whatever happened to ‘Gold Medal Mentality’?” 

“Sort out that penalty and we’ll get it back. Now  _ go _ . You know what to do, Sigrid. You’ve got this,” said Tauriel, passing back her stick.  

Sigrid flipped it between her hands and rolled her shoulder. She tried her best to block out the roar of the crowd, the people watching her, the pressure of the score line. It was just her, and the goalie. Just like in training, and if she could score against Dagn í, she could score against anyone. 

 

~*~

 

“And Sigrid Bowman puts it away into the top right hand corner, a textbook goal!” 

“She certainly seems pleased with it judging by that grin.”

“Well Eorl is one of her closest friends, it probably feels good to avenge her.” 

“Now then Haleth, we don’t want to be making anything worse out there. There’s enough blood drawn for now.” 

“And I’d put money on there being more by the end of it. GB are now two-nil up, and the New Zealanders won’t like to keep that up for long.”

“Well half time is only 5 minutes away, I think they’ll have to save it for the next quarter.” 

 

~*~ 

 

When they came back to the dugout,  Éowyn was already waiting for them, her head now sporting a couple of quick stitches and some medical plasters. To their surprise though, she was not alone.  

“Éowyn that was a really stupid move. I hope you realise that. You  _ always _ look where you’re going, you can’t leave yourself undefended!”

“Yes Faramir I  _ know _ ! I’ve already had an earful from Háma about it, and in case you didn’t see, I was the one who got hit over the head. I was the one who got the penalty for us!”

“No goal is worth losing your life over.” He was knelt before her, clutching tightly to her hands and seemed afraid to let go. His face was drained of all colour, save for the small union flag on each cheek.  

“I’m not dead! I’m not even properly concussed! It’s just a bit of blood,” cried Éowyn in frustration, but there was a tenderness in her eyes that had not been there before.  

“It could have been a  _ lot _ worse.” Faramir replied soothingly, trying to cover up the pain in his voice. “I only just found you. I’m not willing to lose you.” he added, cupping her cheek.  

“Oh Faramir, stop being so--” 

“If we could _please_ cut this scene short so we could get on with our team talk then that would be superb,” sighed Háma, though Sigrid could tell she was silently agreeing with Faramir. She always taught them not to take any unnecessary risks when it came to matches, but she also knew there was no point in arguing after the event. The team all fell silent and gathered back around.  

“Okay team, we always knew this was going to be a tough game, we always knew the kiwis were going to want this. We beat them to the bronze in London, they don’t want to lose out to us again and that’s why they’re taking so many risks, but whatever you do don’t sink to their level. Keep it clean and play to the whistle. That means no elbows Tar!” 

Tar rolled her eyes but nodded in resignation, though Sigrid suspected she’d still not take to any potential New Zealand aggression kindly. It was usually her who was the one being sent off the pitch; it was a wonder she’d only received two cards the whole tournament!

“Just keep up the good work ladies,” continued Háma, “and try to all stay in one piece. We’ll have Rosie, ‘Belia and Aerin starting at the back. Sigrid, Tauriel and Hild in the midfield and then Tar, Morwen, Ryann and Pearl you go up front. Éowyn, don’t give me that look, I’ll sub you in later. For now I just want a healthy team. Alright, everyone else happy? Excellent, get out there and make me proud.” 

 

~*~

 

“The second half is just underway and New Zealand wasting no time whatsoever in getting in on the attack. Boyens is racing down that field at a record space with Walsh there to support. They’re heading straight to the D, Hurin there to meet them with a low tackle but they’ve recovered. Quick shot from the top, Blacklock makes the dive and saves it but it’s not cleared the D.” 

“It’s hard to make out what’s happening there Findel, there’s a lot of movement in the goal mouth. Blacklock making some great saves but New Zealand want it and, yes I think that just went over the line! Flicked over the top and to the side, I don’t know who got the last touch though.” 

“I think Boyens flicked it over but Jackson just tapped it into the goal. So despite her and Walsh’s work, it’ll be Jackson’s name on the sheet.” 

“Got to hate a goal stealer.” 

“I don’t think they mind all that much Haleth, that’s taken the score to two-one to GB, and there’s still plenty of time left to equalise.”

 

~*~

 

They were still in the lead, that’s all that mattered. If they could just hold out that little bit longer… but the New Zealanders were not ready to give up. They had a concentrated energy that Sigrid could only envy. As soon as she tried to made a break for the D, they were on her tail with a stick right at her feet ready to knock the ball away. It wasn’t technically illegal, but it wasn’t safe either. The stick could easily slip and trip them both over, or Sigrid could take a hit without seeing them and hit them on the head. It was easy for an elbow to find a rib when you were standing side by side… but Háma had been quite strict on keeping it clean, and so it was Brophy who’d received the yellow card, not her. 

This was good news, they were still in the lead and now they’d be a woman up for next five minutes. That was plenty of time to get some goals scored! They tried to make the most of it, dancing round the players, but when they got into the D they were met with a solid defence. Even the penalty corners they won weren’t enough to get past them; the five minutes elapsed quicker than expected and they’d lost their advantage, but they were still in the lead. That’s was all that mattered. 

Éowyn had argued her way back on pitch, her wound bandaged up, and Sigrid felt like they had a chance to get back into this! They could block the New Zealanders for long enough they’d be safe. They just have to keep out of trouble, there were only twenty minutes left now… 

That’s when Hild made a break for the goal. She had Morwen at her side and Sigrid knew that those love birds were going to make it! One more goal, just one more goal and they’d be able to relax again… Hild took a step in the D and raised her stick to take the ball, but a New Zealand defender went to grab it in a sweeping movement. The ball flew away to the side taking Hild with it. She crumpled on the floor, clutching her leg, the initial scream stopping play completely.  

Morwen seemed to freeze for a second and then raced towards her wife, dropping to the floor to look her over. There was a fear in her face Sigrid had never seen before. The couple had been playing hockey together for a long time and had certainly suffered worse injuries, yet nothing could compare to hearing the person you love above all else cry out in pain. 

“I’m alright, It’s not that bad. It’s just a sprain. I can walk it off.” Hild assured, the exasperated medic pushing her back to the ground as she examined her foot. 

“It is a  _ bad _ sprain, and you need to get ice on it  _ right away _ .”

“Come on Love, I’ll help you,” said Morwen, lifting her up, but Hild pushed her away. 

“Not yet. It’s a penalty right? Captain?” she called over to Tauriel who had been talking to the Umpire. 

“Definitely a penalty,” nodded Tauriel. “I’ll take it, don’t worry just get yourself off the pitch.”

“No,” said Hild firmly. “It’s mine to take. I was so close to that goal, let me make the score sheet. Don’t take that away from me too.” 

“Honey, there is no way I’m going to let--”

“Morwen, Morwen, light of my life, when have I ever listened to you?” 

“Never,” sighed her wife, “alright, take it quick and then you’re getting out of here.” 

“Sounds like our love life.” 

“Oh, shut up and go score.” 

“Still sounds like our love--” 

There was a cough from the officials and the women stopped talking abruptly. Morwen quickly helped Hild back to her feet, giving the medic a slightly sheepish grin as she did so. Éowyn, barely back from her own injury, handed Hild back her stick and she hobbled over to the goal. 

The crowd cheered in response, both sides in full support. Hild didn’t waste a second and smashed the ball right into the bottom left hand corner. Shortly after, the whistle blew for the end of the quarter, and Morwen ran over to help Hild and carried her off bridal style. It was now her turn to fuss and care for her loved one. Faramir had somehow been allowed to stay, so long as he remained relegated to drinks duty. He seemed happy enough to do any menial task if it meant getting to stay close to Éowyn and make sure that she was well cared for. It was slightly strange to see so many couples together in such close proximity, yet refusing to interact outside of their pairing.They didn’t seem to realise that anyone else was around them, or indeed watching them.

Both Éowyn and Hild were making a token effort to complain about the fuss they were receiving, but Sigrid could tell they were both enjoying it immensely. It had to be nice, having someone care for you like that and Sigrid thought back to when  Fíli done the same for her. It had only been sunburn then, but it had still felt so… nice. Having someone care for you in that way, to see for yourself just how much they valued you, how much they  _ loved _ you. 

Sigrid sat and drank her water as she listened to the rest of the team talk before they went back on. They were a woman down again, but they had the subs to compensate. They just needed to hold out for fifteen more minutes, and they’d be through to the final. They’d be guaranteed a medal, and if they played like they’d been playing, well it could be gold! 

The game started back up and they all went back on with that very thought in mind. Their game turned on the defensive, and they found themselves backed into their own half for the remainder of the match. But that didn’t matter, Sigrid only had one thing on her mind now and that was keeping their D safe. They’d come so far, they’d all given so much to get here, and she was not about to let anything get in their way. When a New Zealander made a run for the goal she wasted no time in charging out to meet her. She angled her stick to take the ball away, but fate had other ideas. 

Instead of slipping to the side, the ball ran up her stick and made straight for her face. She took the full force of the hit straight to her jaw. Her mouth immediately filled with blood, forcing her to spit out her gumshield or else choke. It trickled down her front, staining her shirt and pooling on the pitch.  

It had been nobodies fault this time, just the risk of the game, but it didn’t stop it from hurting like hell.  There were only five minutes left though! She could fight on, she knew she could, but the medic was taking absolutely no nonsense by now and ordered her off the pitch. 

“Don’t worry Sigrid, we’ll take it all from here!” called Éowyn after her, voice muffled by her perfectly intact gumshield. 

In the meantime, another team of officials had sprinted on with a bucket and cleaned the blood off the astro, so it looked as though nothing had ever even happened. The game started back up again without any fuss.

There was no one special waiting for Sigrid in the dugout. No surprise that might make the pain worth it. She didn’t know why, but she thought that maybe, maybe he’d be here for her. That he’d have been watching the game on the screen somewhere and come running to see her. That he’d race down the crowds and take her into his arms. 

But all she had was Pearl’s taunts and a large ice pack. She could only sit on the sidelines watch as the last few minutes of the game tick by, trying to ignore the freezing pain seeping into her skin. There were more attempts on goal, a panicked moment where she was certain they were going to slip a ball past Dagn í’s pads but Aerin had her back and the score stayed the same. The buzzer went and the game was over. 

Cheers erupted everywhere, her team on pitch clung to each other but Sigrid couldn’t hear what they were saying.  She couldn’t even shout with her teammates as it hurt her jaw too much to do so. In the changing room everyone ran through their favourite moments and even though her penalty was celebrated, it was still pushed to the side. Dagn í’s fantastic saves,  Éowyn’s determination, Hild’s absolute legendary commitment overshadowed it all, just as it should! It had been one of their best, most fun games this whole tournament, and Sigrid was glad to have been a part of it. It turned out Tar had been right, it was only worthwhile if you got a scar out of it. But still through all the talk Sigrid still felt very… other. 

The scene swam before her, and even though she knew she was a part of the team… she couldn’t help but feel like she was still missing something within her. She couldn’t help but wonder what F íli would say to all of this. What his reaction to their win might be, if he’d carry her away like a champion the way Morwen had for Hild. If he’d gently kiss her wounds better like Faramir did for  Éowyn . She’d even settle for a phone call like Rosie had gotten, filled with screams and celebrations and frantic ‘well dones’ and ‘I love yous!’ She didn’t have anything though. She’d tried calling her family but been sent to answer phone instead, and not even Bain seemed to be online to skype. 

She’d thought joining the team at the bar to celebrate might get her over the emotional slump, but Háma had insisted that any injured player be sent to their rooms to recover. Sigrid was left there all by herself.  Éowyn had already been squirreled off to Faramir’s rooms where she’d no doubt receive the most diligent care possible. She’d assumed he’d have flown home by now like the other relegated teams had been, but Faramir had apparently insisted on staying to watch Éowyn win. Even if that meant paying for his own flight home. He really was the perfect man. The kind Éowyn deserved to have in her life… 

Not for the first time, Sigrid slept alone. On paper she seemed to have everything she’d always wanted. She had a team she loved and trusted with her life, a family who were truly happy and able to look after themselves without her, and a real shot at winning an Olympic Gold Medal. 

Yet all she wanted was to be back home, curled up with F íli on a sofa whilst they watched someone else play the game. Some other team winning, and cheering for them on instead. She knew it was a selfish thought, but it was one that she couldn’t seem to let go of. 

In the morning, she’d let herself recover. In the morning she’d get back to her normal self and be happy to be going through to the final. But in the comfort of her own head, she let herself mourn what she’d lost, and dream of what might have been if she’d only had the brains realise it sooner. 

Across the ocean, a long way away, where the stars no longer shone, Fíli looked around at his empty bedroom and wondered exactly the same thing. 

 


	17. Umpires must allow for common sense to govern interpretation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Honestly, she comes all this way to see me and then runs off to tell a stranger how much she loves them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update! Moving out of my university accommodation and back in with my parents took it out of me, and then there were job applications and the final degree show and graduation and bla bla bla. Anyway, if anyone is still out there, I hope you enjoy this latest update =)

 

The problem was, that whilst Fíli’s Olympics might be over, it wasn’t so for everyone else. In fact it was pretty much impossible to escape! Every news report, Facebook update, tweet, and bus stop conversation was filled with updates of what was happening where. There were medal tables posted in chip-shop windows, adverts on posters all over town and worse of all, worse of all were the personal messages. All everyone wanted to know was how it had all gone, what was it like living in the village, did he get to meet this-or-that celebrity, how did he cope with the temperature and then, oh then there was all the  _ pity! _ People saying how  _ sorry _ they were he didn’t get further. Telling him how  _ not to give up  _ on anything just yet. To keep on going because  _ there’s always Tokyo _ ! 

After he’d managed to live through that, they then started talking about the women who were still out there, fighting the good fight for dear old blighty! They wanted to know everything there was to know about them and if Fíli never had to talk about Sigrid fucking Bowman’s goal sheet ever again it would be decade too soon! But he couldn't say any of that, he just had to smile and nod and say nice sweet things about how all of the squad were very close friends and were so very happy to see the ladies doing well! Why yes I do think they have a chance at winning that gold, wouldn’t that be lovely for us all?

All he bloody wanted was to slip back into a normal life, but he knew he couldn’t hold off his family for any much longer. He’d managed to persuade his mother that he’d rather get a taxi from the airport than get a lift due to his jet lag. He’d assured Thorin he didn’t want to do a run down of the tournament just yet, and Frerin had been understanding enough to only rely on a quick phone call to say welcome home before he got back to doing… whatever it was Frerin did these days. (Goalkeepers were always a bunch of oddballs, goalkeepers with art degrees were doubly so.) The only person he really wanted to see was Kíli, but he was still in Ireland doing press junkets and being stuffed with food by their Grandmother (who would never believe that they were eating getting enough to eat outside her care). So he was left alone to mope about his flat and wallow in his own self-pity. He  _ really _ needed to find some friends outside of his family and his sport.

Yet he could not hold off the inevitable for much longer. As soon as news hit that the women were through to the grand final, Dís was knocking on his door and inviting herself in.

“Come on, come on! Get your things packed back up because your fantastic mother is here to save the day!” she sang, ignoring his confused look and bustling about his kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, neglecting him entirely in the process.

“Why yes Mum, it’s so lovely to see you too, please make yourself at home.”

“You used my home free of charge for eighteen years and nine months, I can use yours whenever I like.” She replied, not missing a beat, “now aren’t you going to ask me about what amazing thing I have done for you?”

“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me anyway.” He sighed, sinking back down onto his sofa.

“Oh come on, it’s a good surprise! Here, have a biscuit,” she offered him a packet she’d just gotten out of his own cupboard. She seemed to already be on her second one, but he took the offer nonetheless. She was still his mum, after all.  

“Go on then Mum, put me out of my misery, what’s this incredible surprise you’ve got planned for me?”

“How do you feel about an all expenses paid trip to Rio?”

“Mum…” warned Fíli, “I’m not in the mood for jokes, just tell me the truth. What is it?”

“Just that!” She grinned. “I’ve got us two tickets to see the Gold Medal final! My contacts back at the GB Olympic Committee hooked me up, made the most of my years of loyal service to them. Plus it’s the first time the women have ever got this far, and if you think I’m going to let my son miss out on watching it live then you have another thing coming.” She grinned broadly, but faltered slightly as a darker cloud seemed to shift over Fíli’s eyes. “Sorry, I thought, I thought you’d be happy to go with me…”

“Oh Mum no, it’s not that,” he smiled, reaching out to grab her hand. “If I was going to watch that match with anyone, I’d want to do it with you but… I, I don’t want to have to go back there. Not after… everything that’s already happened.”

“I understand,” nodded Dís, sitting down next to him and slipping her arm around him, “It’s a long trip, and you’re tired, and it’s hard to go back when you know you can’t join in, but Love, I don’t want you to regret not seeing this game. There might not be another one like it.”

Fíli let out a derisive snort, but couldn’t help but relax into her shoulder. It didn’t matter how old he was, there was never anything quite like a mother’s comfort. “It’s not just that, there’s other stuff as well. Reasons I can’t go. Things I, I don’t want to go into detail about just yet.”

Dís frowned slightly as she pulled him closer. “Okay, well I won’t pressure you to go anywhere you don’t want to then. I’ll find someone else to go with, and you can stay here if it’s what you really want?”

“Thanks Mum. I’m sorry,” he added, shifting away from her nervously.

“Oh, don’t worry Love, I can easily find someone else to go with,” she said breezily.

“No, it’s not that it’s…” he took a deep steadying breath, not daring to look at her. “I’m sorry for not being there myself, I’m sorry that you’re not going to see  _ me _ play, I’m sorry for… for not getting you that gold medal. I’m sorry for not being the son you deserve.”

There was silence and Fíli braced himself for what was about to come. The false acceptances, the fake laughter, the reassurances that there was always a next time! But there was nothing but a breath of pain and when he turned round it was to see a look of, well, a look of internalised horror. It was almost identical to his own. As though  _ she _ were the one who’d let him down, not the other way around. 

“Oh my boy, my precious little…” she dived forward and pulled him into a hug so tight Fíli thought she would never let go. After a moment’s hesitation he returned it, nuzzling against her neck like he was eight years old again. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” she whispered, “sorry that you ever felt like that. I’m so proud of you and your brother. You’ve achieved such great things, not just on the pitch but off it too. When your father died…”

“Mum, it’s okay,” Fíli said quickly, breaking the hug to look at her, “you don’t need to say anything about that I know you don’t like--”

“No, it needs saying.” She sniffed, righting her clothes and taking a deep breath. “When your father died I was a complete mess, no I really was, I was just very good at hiding it, but you know what held me together? You did. You took such great care of us all, taking up all the duties around the house. Cooking and cleaning and trying to make us all smile with your stupid jokes. You were more than a brother to Kíli, though I don’t think he realises it most days. Then you went off to university and got all those qualifications; it was the proudest day of my life watching you walk across that stage. Yes, I promise you.” She grinned at his dubious look, tears filling her eyes. “More so then when you got selected for GB. More so than winning any medal you’ve ever got. I have your graduation photo above the mantle for a  _ reason  _ you know. So don’t you dare, ever again, try and do something with your life because you think it’ll make  _ me _ happy. It’s a cliché but I’m going to say it and I’m going to mean it, because it’s true of all mothers: so long as you are happy, then I am happy. That’s all I want, for you to be happy.”

Fíli wiped his eyes with his sleeve and gave a small chuckle. “Why does everyone seem so obsessed with my happiness these days? First her, then Kíli and now you!”

“Probably because we all love you.” She shrugged, but there was a keen look in her eye that showed she’d not missed his earlier hesitation. “So tell me then, despite it all, did you actually have fun out there?”

“I did, in a way,” he began slowly. “For a while there I was really, truly, utterly happy but…”

“But then something happened with this ‘her’ of yours?” she said carefully.

“Yeah…” he replied, choosing to leave it at that. She’d figure it all out for herself soon enough, but he still didn’t want to explain it all just yet. After all, he was still trying to forget all about ‘her’.

“That’s the main reason you don’t want to go, isn’t it?” she asked kindly. “Someone out there hurt you, didn’t they?”

“Yeah…” he repeated, knowing deep down it was a pathetic reason, but Dís didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. 

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe I shouldn’t go at all…”

“No!” he replied hastily, not wanting her to miss out because of him. “It’s not as bad as all that, we just, we just had different ideas of what we wanted from our… relationship.” He tried not to blush but knew he was failing. “I don’t regret anything, and I know I was right to end things but, I… I still miss them so it’s probably a good idea to not go back to where they’ll be… if you catch my drift?”

Dís couldn’t help but laugh, “Oh you really do take after your father you know that? After all, when we met all I was looking for was a causal relationship but he had other ideas and then what do I know, along comes--”

“Okay Mum, I really  _ don’t _ need to hear this story!”

Dís continued, clearly finding some sense of pleasure in her son’s embarrassment. “I was  _ going _ to say, along comes love knocking on my door. You didn’t arrive on the scene until ten months later.”

“I still don’t want to hear it,” he grimaced.

“Well alright then, I’ll leave it there and save it for if you ever get married.”

“ _ Mum _ !”

“Alright, alright! But I want you to know, whoever this person is, it’s  _ their _ loss. You understand me? I know a mother is always biased but still, anybody would be lucky to have you by their side. You are, after all,  _ the _ most handsome and wonderful British Olympian there currently is.”

“Gee, thanks Mum,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You know for a  _ moment _ there, I really was feeling better about myself.”

“My pleasure Son,” she beamed, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Well, if that’s your decision then I guess I best get back to my own packing. But, tell me.” She pushed his hair back behind his ear. “Is there anything else you want to talk about before I go?”

“I, well…” he began, feeling the need to share his decision with her but not certain it was the right time to do so. But then again, he’d probably never find the right time… “I’ve thought about it and, and I think I’m going to give up hockey.”

Dís looked completely taken aback for a moment but then tried to school her expression into something softer and more understanding. The facial gymnastics involved was something to behold.

“This isn’t a rushed decision!” He explained quickly. “I’ve been quietly thinking about it for a while now. I don’t want to give up all together, just take a couple of steps back. No more international games, no more premiere league stuff. I want to take up coaching full time. I’ve already got the qualifications, and I mean, it’s pretty much my job already. But I’d like to take it higher, I think.”

Dís smiled again. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. You’re an amazing coach already, and I look forward to seeing how much better you’re going to become. And don’t worry, I’ll take Thorin with me to Brazil so he’ll be out of the way and not try to bother you about anything before you’re ready.”

“Mum, you don’t have to do that, you know.”

“No, but I will. Plus I’m sure Bilbo would love a break from all the hockey talk. He’s more of a tennis man, after all.” She grinned and stood up, opening her arms for a final hug.

“Love you Mum,” he murmured into her shoulder.

“Love you too, my little Lion Heart,” she replied, and Fíli truly felt it. It was like a great weight had finally been lifted off of him and everything before him was clearer.

“You know,” he said as he walked her back to the door “It’s a shame Kíli’s still in Ireland, he’d have jumped at the chance to go with you.”

“Oh, any reason why?” she asked, picking up on his suggestive tone. “No! Surely  _ both _ my son’s didn’t leave their hearts behind?”

“Well, you know Kíli.”

“Yes, yes I do,” she chuckled. “Damn, I think I’m going to have some investigating to do…”

“Oh, give it a week and you’ll be tired of hearing about her as well.”

“ _ Ah-ha _ ! So it’s a woman! Now that helps narrows things down significantly…” 

~*~

Tauriel had spent most of the day staring at her phone. She’d put it away for training and meetings of course, but as soon as it was over she was back to the screen and typing away. She wouldn’t tell them what she was doing, but her face gave it away completely. It had got to the point where the team even felt brave enough to imitate her, giggling and fiddling with their braids as they sent each other mock texts imagining those Tauriel might be sending. Most involved a very generous use of emojis and ever growing theories on pet-names (‘snuggle-muffin’, ‘star-dancer, ‘short-stack’) and date ideas (the cinema, the space centre, star gazing on a private cruise). Even Dagní had gotten involved, demonstrating her rather terrifyingly accurate impression of Kíli.

Éowyn was also keen to get in on the act, but it also meant accepting her own teasing in regards to Faramir. She’d seemed to take the team's’ advice to heart, and Faramir had started to make a bit more of an appearance in their lives. Mostly they had just seen him waiting around for her with a book in his hand, but it didn’t stop the team from making exaggerated  _ ooo _ -ing noises whenever the pair so much as smiled at one another. The Dun-Harrows were also having  _ far _ too much fun pretending to flirt with him. It was hilarious to watch his awkward reaction to it, and in turn the fury and embarrassment that it bought out in Éowyn. 

Sigrid laughed along with it all as well. The team were her family now, and this kind of behaviour was exactly what a family did. Yet it reminded her of not only what she’d lost by no longer having Fíli with her, but also what she was missing out by not having her actual siblings with her. She missed Tilda and Bain and Da more than she thought possible. She even missed Thranduil in his own way, though she still didn’t know him as well as she should.

So it came as quite the shock to them all when Tauriel looked up from her phone, stopped in her tracks and cried out his name in the middle of the park.

“Thranduil? Legolas? Is that really you?”

Sigrid looked around too and, yes sure enough, those two were two white-blonde heads poking above the crowds of people were that of her stepfather and stepbrother. They looked up and waved politely, though their smiles were genuine. Thranduil tapped the shoulder of someone standing near to him, just hidden behind the crowd of milling tourists. They turned around, holding tightly to a ten year-old child and Sigrid felt her heart skip a beat within her.

“Siggy!” the girl yelled and let go of her father’s hand to sprint across the park, parting the startled crowds as she did so.

The sisters sped towards one another like two magnets, and Sigrid scooped Tilda up in her arms and spun her around. She couldn’t help the heaving sobs that escaped her as Bain and Da joined in too. This time though, the tears really were from happiness.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to come!” she said at last, putting Tilda back on the ground. “How did you get the money together? It’s so last minute, it’s so--”

“Well, what’s the point of being a rich, multi-national CEO if you can’t treat your family to a spontaneous tropical holiday,” smiled Thranduil who’d hung back from the initial surge, taking the time to say a proper hello to Tauriel before leaving her and Legolas to catch up on all the romantic gossip from the last fortnight. Sigrid turned to him with open mouthed shock.

“Thranduil, you, you didn’t have to do—it’s so far to come with Tilda being so young and, and we only found out yesterday that we were through!”

“He’s exaggerating his generosity,” laughed Bard, still opening his arm to pull his husband in closer “he’s had everything booked for months, First Class all the way. We never doubted that you’d get this far.”

“I mean, we didn’t know if it was going to be bronze or gold you’d be playing for,” began Bain, extracting himself from the hug in an attempt to look a little more dignified, but the effect was lost when Tilda hit him on the arm with her Olaf the Snowman backpack.

“I knew you were going to win gold Siggy, I always knew you were because you’ve got the best Goalie ever!” She hesitated for a moment and then added, “You and Wynnie are also really good, but everyone knows that you can’t even  _ play _ without a keeper.”

“Your sister’s right you know!” called Dagní, sauntering forward with the rest of the team. Tilda turned round to look at her and Sigrid could practically see the stars begin to twirl in her eyes. It seemed she had lost all interest in her big sister by now, and she flew over to shower Dagní in praise and a billion other questions. Éowyn made a great show of personal offence as she too was actively ignored, much to Faramir’s entertainment.

Sigrid shook her head fondly, “Honestly, she comes all this way to see me and then runs off to tell a stranger how much she loves them.”

“Yeah but she gets to see you most days of the year,” shrugged Bain, watching on with some amusement. “How’s that jaw of yours by the way? We saw the re-play on the plane; there was so much blood! It was  _ awesome _ , everyone on Facebook thought so too.”

Her fathers didn’t seem to agree with those people, as Bard scanned her over more closely, Thranduil’s keen gaze providing a second opinion. He sighed as he cupped her face for a better look and she flinched slightly at the touch. The doctor had given her the all clear, but she was still a little bit sore. He sighed again and let go of her.

“Well no doubt you’re going to live, but please do your old da a favour and don’t take the same risks tomorrow? I don’t think my heart can take anymore shocks.”

“Could have been worse! Remember last Olympics when Tar got hit over the head and ended up in hospital and had to play in that massive piece of headgear?” replied Bain with a gigantic grin on his face. Sigrid could practically see the horror story taking place in her father’s mind and put a hand over her brother’s mouth before he could say anything else.

“I honestly cannot believe that anyone would let you play such a dangerous game,” tutted Thranduil, “terrible parenting if you ask me.”

“Your son is trained in various forms of medieval weaponry and fighting techniques,” replied Bard dryly, “so don’t go lecturing me on parenting.”

Thranduil clutched his chest dramatically. “Mr Bowman, I’d never even dream of it.”

“Oh God, it really is so great to see you all again,” smiled Sigrid as she watched the ease of banter between her dad and his husband. She could see how Thranduil’s eyes would always dart to check that Tilda was still all right. There was a confidence in Bain that hadn’t been there before, and a glow around her da that never seemed to disappear. It only grew brighter when Thranduil was nearer, igniting at the slightest touch of a hand. She didn’t think she’d ever seen them all this happy since before Ma died, and with Tilda busy now examining the impressive bruise on Pearl’s knee, it felt like all her family had finally been drawn together. She felt the joy of it bubble up within her, but then her father’s next words cut it all down again.

“So what’s this romantic gossip I hear on the grapevine about a certain McBuri brother?”

Sigrid’s heart plummeted to her stomach like a stone, bruising her very core. She didn’t think it would all have got out that fast, everyone on the team knew and Háma of course but, but she didn't think the outside world would—

“From what I gather Tauriel is a very lucky woman!”

“Oh!” she gasped, giving out a bark of laughter. “Oh, you meant Tauriel you meant, yes. Her and Kíli I, yes! Them!”

“Well, who else would I mean?” frowned Bard, his concern only growing the more Sigrid pretended to laugh.

“Bain, let’s go and rescue Sigrid’s teammates from Tilda,” said Thranduil diplomatically, grabbing his stepson by the shoulder and steering him away, leaving Sigrid and Bard alone. Sigrid covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to regain her composure.

“Come on Cariad, let’s go find somewhere to sit and you can tell me all about whatever it is that’s wrong.” He said gently, linking their arms together and walking her away from the crowds. There was a small bench area, with a café to the side, and Bard disappeared with her Athlete’s card to get them some coffees. It was the same café where she’d had her talk with Lothíriel. The days were starting to drag into months within Sigrid’s head. Time didn’t seem real here anymore. One minute she was still feeling betrayed by Lothíriel and lonely, then she was here and with Fíli and happy for the first time in a long while. Then Lothíriel was back and they were in a shouting match in front of her family! They finally lay it to rest and she was lost again, confused and alone but no, she wasn’t alone, not anymore because  _ Fíli _ was suddenly right there beside her again! He was ready and willing to take on all her problems and listen to her, and she wanted him to know it all and she wanted to do the same for him… but it was all too much too soon maybe? And before she could even  _ think _ she’d ruined everything between them. It wasn’t as though she were back to square one, but rather as though she was playing a whole new game she didn’t understand the rules for.  She knew she’d already lost, but she didn’t know how to stop playing.

Sigrid was grateful for her father’s quiet as he seemed to wait for her to talk first. He made a show of looking around at the various tourists and athletes wandering about, fiddling with the cheap plastic menu sitting on the table. When it was obvious that she wasn’t going to say anything, he opened his mouth and she could see the clogs turning in his head as he tried to think up something that might take her out of herself again. Some comment or joke to make her groan or laugh, or do anything other than sit and stare at her cheap paper cup. She braced herself for the small talk, the inevitable eye rolling she’d be forced to perform just to make him happy. 

“I have to say, with all these shirtless, muscle-bound men wondering about, it’s no wonder you need all those condoms. It makes me wish I’d kept up with the archery. I could have--”

“Oh  _ Da _ I fucked up! I fucked up so bad!” she sobbed, and buried her head on the table. It took Bard slightly by surprise and he reached forward to grab her hands.

“Hey now Cariad, hey there’s no need for that! You’ve not fucked up anything Love.”

“No I have, I really, really have,” she said, not daring to look back up from the table.

“Well not from where I’m sitting,” he chuckled, “you’re through to the Olympic final, any mistakes you’ve made so far don’t matter, you just need to focus on that last game.”

“No, Da,” sighed Sigrid, glancing up at him, “for once in my life I’m not talking about hockey! I’m talking about  _ me _ .”

“And what is it you’ve apparently done that’s been so awful? Sigrid, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me about it.” He smiled sadly

“I’ve just, I’ve just ruined everything in everyone’s lives. I was the reason Lothíriel and I broke up. I’ve been a terrible friend and teammate, and--”

“Oh come on Sigrid, you can’t really believe--”

“No Da, it’s true!" she cried, and finally let her heart out to him. She told him all about what really happened between her and Lothíriel. She explained how she’d felt when Thranduil arrived and the family didn’t need her anymore, how she’d just ploughed her life back into hockey because it seemed the only other thing that made her feel useful. Yet she’d then just let her own self-centred ways interfere and she’d let the team down yet again! How she almost didn’t make the squad at the last minute,

“Then there was this boy and--”

“Uh-oh, there’s five words a father never wants to hear…” said Bard speaking at last, his concern only growing.

“No Da, it wasn’t like that. In a way it was but, but it was  _ me _ again. He listened to everything I had to say, he made me feel safe and confident. He loved me and I, I punished him for it. He walked out on me because he needed to and I deserved it because some of the things I said and did... but now Da, now I really think I do… I think I…”

“You think you really do love him.” Bard finished for her and Sigrid nodded. Bard leant back in his chair and sighed. “Well that is quite a lot of things to happen in the space of a few weeks.”

Sigrid let out a small breath of laughter. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

“That’s quite a lot of—no okay, sorry no, not the time for Dad Jokes. Right, I get it,” he said, holding his hands up in defence at Sigrid’s exasperated glare. “Well Sigrid, I don’t really think there’s anything to say here other than that you need to find a way to get past all of this. You’ve already reconciled with Lothíriel and with your team, you’re most of the way there already. You’ve got to just try and move on from what you’ve done. I know that hurts, things that matter always hurt the most, but you can’t let that pain overcome you.”

“I know Da, I know. I should just forget about him, right?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” said Bard shrewdly. “You still owe this poor boy a proper apology. He deserves an explanation of why this all happened, and well, if he likes you as much as it seems, then maybe things aren’t as lost as you think they are.”

Sigrid couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Thanks Da, but you don’t need to lie to me about these things. I’m not thirteen anymore.”

“I know, which is why it’s not a lie,” he said earnestly. “You can’t give up hope just yet. But don’t let that consume you, he doesn’t owe you anything, but you still owe him quite a bit.”

Sigrid nodded in agreement, staring down at her by now luke-warm coffee. “I wish Mam was here,” she murmured at last, the final piece of guilty truth spilling out of her.

“Me too,” smiled Bard, “though I can assure you her advice on this would be worse than mine. Still, I know she’d be out there cheering you on louder than the rest of the stadium put together.”

“With a homemade sign,” added Sigrid, remembering her Mother’s fondness for them, always covered in rainbow markers and glitter. 

“And plenty of body paint,” added Bard, his eyes sparkling with mischief at the memory. 

“And a giant musical instrument--”

“--And a funny hat--”

“--And a flag for a cape--”

“--She certainly knew how to liven up an Egg and Spoon Race,” chuckled Bard. “Honestly though Sigrid, she’d be proud of you for everything you’ve achieved. She really would be. So make sure you go out there and give the Dutch  _ hell _ tomorrow, it’s what she would have wanted.”

“I promise,” grinned Sigrid.

By the end of the day, it wasn't just the Bowmans who'd made a surprise appearance. Pearl’s sisters came along to see her as well as Pippin, bringing with them personalised chants and whistles. Sam, Frodo and the triplets arrived, looking exhausted but relieved; Rosie's tears of joy apparently worth the horrors of travel with toddlers. Even Otho had managed to get the time off work to see them, and Lobelia's welcoming, enthusiastic embrace was enough evidence to prove her a hypocrite.

That night the team and their families all ate together, sharing in stories and tales from the years they’d spent playing together. It helped alleviate their nerves for the coming game, helping to make them truly excited to get out there again. Whatever happened her team would come away with a medal, but Sigrid would be damned if she didn’t make sure it was a gold. It’s what her family deserved, and she was no longer in the business of letting them down.

This year was  _ their _ year, after all, and she wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that. Not anymore.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember you can check for updates and news regarding the fic via: mrsmarymorstan.tumblr.com/tagged/trotg 
> 
> =)

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoying this fic? Please let me know via Kudos/Comments or on Tumblr where I'm mrsmarymorstan


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